Dragon-Bound
by DONOVAN94
Summary: During the final battle against Galbatorix, the bond between Eragon and Saphira is severed. Panicked and grief-stricken, Saphira flees across the ocean to a new land, hoping to find some way to heal the bond. What she discovers, is a dragon unlike anything she has ever encountered before, a wild dragon with a love of all things precious and valuable, a King Under a Mountain: Smaug.
1. Broken

**Hello everyone, thank you for coming to read and welcome to my Inheritance/Hobbit Crossover! **

**This story was originally a challenge issued out by MusicLover500, and I so fell in love with the idea that I simply had to pick up the gauntlet. So this story is dedicated to her. This is now going to be my summer project, and I hope to work on it now that I'm broke up from school until October, though I'm still going to work on this properly and give you guys the best quality I can. I hope you guys enjoy this, and I look forward to hearing what you think.**

**A quick couple of things before we start: This story is in ****no way**** related to my other Hobbit fanfiction. This exists in say, another universe to that. The setting for this story is that Alagasia and Middle-Earth are on the same planet but they are separated by a vast ocean and have never come into contact with each other in recent history. The timing of this is that it starts during the final battle of Inheritance and roughly six months to a year before An Unexpected Journey. **

**For how Smaug and Saphira look, I will be going off of their movie portrayals, though exaggerating Saphira's size slightly so that she's more to half Smaug's size. That makes it fairer. And I'll be going off of Inheritance Books but Hobbit Movies.**

**Anyway, I'll stop rambling, and let you read. Please leave a review and tell me what you think! :)**

* * *

Dragon Bound

* * *

Chapter 1 – Broken –

Saphira stood frozen from where Galbatorix's magic held her in place.

She heard a cry of pain, and felt a flash of agony strike through her own body as she felt Eragon's pain through their bond, her eyes darting over to him as he fought against the mad-traitor-two-legs Galbatorix. The King had bested him, defeated him, the partner of her heart and mind was lying there helpless beneath the King's blade, and she could do nothing to help him! She wanted to go to him, every instinct in her body urging her to help her rider, but she could not move against the bonds of the magic that held her.

And then, Saphira felt Eragon reach for her, and she readily came to him, offering whatever strength and magic she could give him. She felt her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind cast a spell with what she could give him, and their minds were joined with the Eldunari as she felt the magic be directed at the Mad King.

"What have you done?" her keen ears could hear Galbatorix whisper in complete horror, even over the growls and snarls of Shruikan. "_WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"_

"Made you understand," Eragon grunted with difficulty, and Saphira could feel his pain.

Galbatorix stumbled away from Eragon, muttering to himself, his eyes bulging and she could scent his fear and sorrow as he understood all of his actions that he had caused throughout his life, both good and bad, and the misery he spread, began to be too much for him, and all of a sudden fell to the floor.

Suddenly, Shruikan gave off a deafening roar, and shook his neck so hard that Thorn was sent flying off of his neck. The red dragon fell upon his side half way across the room, the bones in his wing shattering upon impact.

Saphira felt herself be freed from the magic that held her, and realising the bigger threat – quite literally – she sprinted across the room towards Shruikan, the two-legs-pointed-ears Arya alongside her, the dragon-killer weapon held tightly in her hands. As they passed him, Thorn was struggling to his feet from the pain in his side, but he was quickly following them. Saphira afforded herself a moment in order to admire his strength and courage.

With a roar, Saphira leapt high into the air and landed upon Shruikan's snout, bloodying it under her claws, before quickly leaping off and dropping to the floor before he could throw her like he had Thorn. He swung a forepaw at her, but she dodged out of the way, her wings half extended to offer her speed and balance. Thorn was at her side, and they both issued forth a torrent of flames, causing the black dragon to rear his head up as high as the roof of the throne room would allow him. He belted out his own flames in retaliation, though Galbatorix's control over him would not permit him to direct it lower than just above the head of human-height, where he might accidentally injure his master.

Ducking aside from the flames, the brightness temporarily blinded Saphira, though she managed to avoid the heat. However, whilst she was blinded by the flames, she saw too late the claw that came towards her. She tried to dodge out of the way, but was a fraction of a second too slow as the talon tore through her left foreleg, and she roared in pain as a large gash was opened up in her flesh, and her blood seeped onto the floor.

But before Shruikan could follow through with his attack, he suddenly contorted, and spun to find Thorn at his tail on the opposite side of the room, on the other side of the throne that the dragon was lying behind. Thorn savaged at his tail, and Shruikan roared in outrage and lunged towards him. But seizing the opportunity, Saphira leapt into the air, driving down her wings in order to give her more height as she pounced onto Shruikan's neck, just behind the base of his skull, biting down onto his softer scales between his spikes. She heard the male screech in pain and thrash around wildly, trying to buck her off.

Saphira clung to the neck of Shruikan, the black dragon roaring and writhing as he tried to dislodge her. She increased the pressure in her jaws, trying to pierce through his thick scales, clenching her claws into the grooves between each scale in an attempt to hold herself in place. The only thing saving her now was that the gigantic black dragon was too large for the throne room and he could not move freely enough in order to best her. It was a cold comfort to her when she knew that the dragon could kill her with the sheer weight of his head and neck alone, he was _that_ large. His eyes flashed with a dangerous mad intensity that shook her to her core, the only time she had ever been afraid of another dragon in her life; not when she had battled Thorn, nor when she angered Glaedr, but this behemoth terrified her with his madness. She could not help but feel utter pity for him as she felt his consciousness brush hers, and all she could feel from him was an overwhelming hatred and anger, but also a sadness that cut through his soul that he might burst into fits of grief should his anger wane.

But then, Thorn was beside her, leaping up and scrabbling his way onto Shruikan's neck until he was next to Saphira, almost on top of the larger dragon's head as he tried to help her push Shruikan's head towards the ground. They each tried to slash and bite at him, but his scales were so thick that they were hardly making any progress at all. But from the corner of her eye, Saphira saw Arya coming out from around the throne, the Dauthdaert in her hand as she sprinted towards them.

Shruikan saw her, and tried to thrash himself free of Saphira and Thorn's hold, but he could not dislodge them, Saphira hanging on with all the strength she could muster. Her and Thorn's combined weight pulled the massive male's head down to the ground, and in desperation he let loose a jet of flame into the space in front of him. Saphira watched as the elf-female was almost incinerated by the flames, and she feared for her for a split second, before she saw her reappear as she bound onto Shruikan's forepaw and used the momentum to leap up towards his face. Saphira could see what would happen, and instantly tried to hook one of her back feet onto the floor as she used all of her strength to push Shruikan's head into place. The muscles in her chest and forelegs screamed, and she growled as she bared her teeth with the effort, even when Thorn joined her in her attempts. But then, Arya threw the Dauthdaert towards Shruikan, where it plunged into his great, ice-blue eye and embedded itself into his skull and brain.

Shruikan let out one last bellow of rage and grief, his body contorting and writhing like a snake. Saphira and Thorn leapt clear as they felt the dragon beneath them suddenly still and then slowly fall to the floor. As she landed, Saphira turned to see the black monstrosity fall beside her, and she saw as the last light in his remaining eye vanished, a look passing through in his last moment: One of grief, and utter loneliness the likes of which she had never seen, and then a glimpse of relief as he passed into the void.

Hearing a grunt, Saphira snapped her head around, distracting her from how the look in Shruikan's eyes unsettled her. She saw the King pull himself from Eragon's blade that had been embedded in his stomach, his blood flowing freely as he stumbled away. Saphira quickly came to join her partner-of-her-heart-and-mind, standing behind him and offering him her strength as she felt him grow weak from his wounds.

"The voices…" Galbartorix mumbled, his eyes darting about madly as he trembled. "The voices are terrible. I can't bear it…" he closed his eyes, tears flowing down his face in apparent grief. "Pain, so much pain… make it stop, MAKE IT STOP!" he screamed desperately, a hand reaching for the group before him.

"No." Eragon said coldly, turning away from the mad king as the others joined him and Saphira.

Suddenly, Elva shrieked and fainted as Galbatorix fixed Eragon with a look of both misery and hatred. Saphira could feel a great energy of magic begin to swell around the old king, all directed at her rider as he began to speak.

_'Eragon!' _Saphira shouted in warning, and reacting on instinct, Eragon quickly used a spell to send the group: himself, Saphira, Arya, Murtagh, Thorn, Elva, Nusuada and the two children, to the stone where Nusuada had been chained. And then, Eragon began to cast protective spells that would shield them from whatever would come to pass.

But he was only half way through the spell, when Galbartorix let out an unholy scream as he unleashed the magic within him.

"WAISE NEIATE!"

_Be not._

Saphira could feel the onslaught of magic race towards them, even as Galbatorix himself was lost, his form decomposing into molecular pieces. What happened next only took a fraction of a second.

As the magic raced towards Eragon, Saphira let out a scream both physically and mentally as she drove through the link that she and Eragon shared in order to try and protect his mind with hers. However, she only managed to get half way to him, when the magic struck her, and a searing pain exploded across her consciousness, causing her to scream once again as she felt herself being ripped asunder, something inside her soul tearing and breaking and shattering as it fell away like the shards of glass in a mirror.

A light as bright as the sun exploded in the throne room as Galbatorix vanished and became nothing but pure energy as he tried to annihilate them all, even in death.

But Saphira had already felt as if a part of her had died, she teetered for a moment, her mind already growing dark as her vision distorted and her weight lurched as she began to fall towards the ground. In that moment before unconsciousness, she felt an unusual silence inside of herself, one that was so infinite it seemed as if she had been abandoned in a vacuum of space. The last thing she heard was Eragon's screams with her physical ears rather than her mental connection.

And then, her world went dark, and she was lost to unconsciousness.

* * *

The darkness parted for her like water, or a thick fog or even the black smoke from her fiery breath, as she came too slowly. Light pierced through her eyelids, making her wince as it struck pain into the recesses of her mind. She growled, trying to move as she attempted to block out the sun, but her body ached in constant pain. There was nowhere in her at all where she didn't feel some sort of agony or hurt. She felt completely exhausted even though she could tell she had slept for a long while. She groaned again, unable to escape an emptiness that she felt but could not explain.

"Saphira?" She heard a voice, and instantly recognised it as her Eragon. "Saphira?! Are you alright?"

She felt his hands upon her face, and she reached out her mind to him across their bond in an attempt to sooth his evident worry… but found nothing.

Alarmed, her eyes snapped open, and she hissed as she was blinded by the brightness of the sun once again. She bared her teeth as the pain faded, and she slowly tried to open her eyes again, only removing her inner-lids that protected her eyes from the glare once she was accustomed to the light. She saw Eragon kneeling in front of her face, worry and fear evident across his face as he stared down at her. Arya and Blodhgarm were behind him, both with a mixture of concern and confusion upon their faces – though the furry elf tried to hide it as best he could. But Saphira ignored them as she focused solely upon Eragon, panic beginning to rise within her as she tried once again to feel along their bond and to sense his thoughts as if they were her own… but once again found nothing. Her slit pupils sharpened to blade edges as her panic continued to grow out of control.

_'Eragon?'_ It distressed her greatly at the fact that she had to physically reach out her mind and brush through his defences in order to talk to him, it was not second nature as it had once been. Her voice was thick with her emotions, her words trembling with her fear. _'What is wrong? I-I can no longer feel you!'_

"You can't…" he whispered, his voice choking on whatever he was going to say next, a look of horror and hopelessness overcoming him as he had to sit down properly, his body slumping. Saphira desperately tried to feel for his emotions, she could get a taste of them from where she was physically in his mind, but it was not like before where she could have sensed even the slightest change in him. Arya came up beside Eragon, placing a hand on his shoulder as he looked completely desolated as he stared into nothing, his shoulders quaking, his chest heaving, the only betrayal as to the completely overpowering sorrow he suddenly seemed to possess.

"Eragon…" she murmured, her fingers soft upon his flesh, her tone soothing, and Saphira felt odd that it should be her trying to sooth her rider, not Arya, but she was not and the elf was. "It was not your fault,"

"It didn't think… I never…" he mumbled brokenly to himself, tears gathering in his eyes causing Saphira to fidget, the tip of her tail lashing back and forth with her agitation.

"In all my years," the deep voice of the wolf-elf sounded, though Saphira only spared hi a fleeting glance to where he stood, arms folded across his chest as his face bore a stony expression. "I have never heard of such magic that could do this…"

"We have to fix it," Eragon muttered, and then suddenly turned and latched onto Arya, his fingers like a vice as he gripped her tunic as he looked into her face with a strangled cry. "You have to fix it! Please! **_FIX US_**!"

"Eragon…" Arya whispered, her fingers coming to his face, looking deeply into his eyes as she tried to calm him. "I'm sorry, but… no one has ever seen something like this… I-I… I wouldn't know where to begin…"

_'What is it?'_ Saphira snapped, her patience finally at an end as she dug her claws into the ground, lifting her head and arching her neck above the others as she looked between them with a shake of her head, gaze panicked as she desperately tried to understand what was going on. Before, she could have discovered what had happened through Eragon's thoughts and memories, but now she could only do so if she fully invaded his mind and unlocked it all herself. _'What are you talking about?! What happened? Why do you need to fix us? What magic is this? WHAT HAPPENED?!'_ she practically screeched the last part in all of their minds for them all to hear her.

Eragon couldn't speak, he just looked up at her in misery as tears began to leak from his eyes and wept silently, holding his head in his hands. Arya placed a hand upon his shoulder comfortingly as she stood and looked up at Saphira with pity in her eyes.

"Saphira… Galbatorix used an ancient spell in order to destroy himself and us in the process of that." The elf explained to the dragon in a quiet voice, trying to choose her words carefully, though her caution was only proving to grow on the patience on of the dragoness. "The blast almost obliterated the castle, causing the throne room to cave in on us. If not for Eragon's protective spells, we would have all perished. You were badly injured from your battles, and both you and Eragon were driven unconscious by something none of the rest of us could foresee. We managed to drag you out and Thorn helped to carry you back to the Varden. We treated your wounds the best we could, but… Eragon said that he could no longer feel your mind. At first we thought that it was because you were unconscious or because Eragon had been so strained by his magic he was mentally exhausted. But then… you awoke, and he could no longer feel you, and then you admit that you cannot fell him…" Arya trailed off, evidentially not wanting to say the last part as she looked up imploringly at Saphira. They were friends – of a sort – and whatever it was she had to tell Saphira, it would cause her distress, and she was hesitant about doing that.

But evidentially, Blodhgram suffered no such problem as he stepped forward, hands behind his back, as he spoke in calm and collected manner. Saphira found herself becoming more infuriated by the lack of emotion in the elf to the current situation and the whirlwind of emotions she herself now felt.

"When Galbatorix uttered the words 'Be not' in the Ancient Language, he cast it both onto himself and onto Eragon. I suppose he thought it fitting to have the one who subjected him to his own torments die with him. However, somehow it seems that the spell attacked not Eragon himself… but the bond between you."

_'What are you saying?'_ she whispered, knowing full well what they meant but she was desperate not to believe it. She couldn't believe it! Every fibre of her being protested against the very idea, she wanted to scream, but held her breath as she waited for the denial, the reassurance that it couldn't be what she thought!

Before Blodhgram could answer her, Eragon spoke instead, his voice hoarse and broken, thick with his tears as he looked up at her once again. She met his gaze, but didn't want to believe what she saw there.

"Our bond Saphira…" he whispered, his voice cracking if he spoke anything above that. "Galbatorix severed it… we are no longer… we're not…"

_'No…'_ Saphira whispered, and then suddenly let loose an earth shaking roar, venting out all of her grief and despair and anger as the truth brought her crashing down into the pits of the worst misery she could ever experience. The silence within herself was deafening, she felt alone within an expanse that seemed as unending as the sky itself, there was no heart or mind to join with hers, no thoughts to hear, the silence was consuming, the loneliness eating at her heart. She and Eragon were no longer one, the realisation of it was enough to shatter her as if she were some fragile two-legged; it felt the same as if he had died, the ache in her heart certainly felt that way. In that one moment she felt two options lie before her: a madness that threatened to eat her alive, she would no longer deal with the pain she felt, but would lose herself in the process. On the other hand, she had a great pit of rage and grief, to deal with all of the emotion and to see if she could find a way through this.

She chose the rage.

But she couldn't deal with it here, not with them surrounding her like that. So, ignoring her body's protests of pain and exhaustion, she forced herself to all four feet, and began to leap and bound across the clearing where Eragon and the elves had placed her on the edge of the encampment of the Varden's army outside of Urû'baen. She ran into the fields surrounding the city, not taking to the air as the hard earth hitting her feet in a rhythmic pattern seemed to help vent out the energy created by her emotions that lashed out like a storm inside of her. Once she got far enough away that her legs began to tire and the muscles within protest and her bones ache from the constant beat against the ground, she finally stopped.

She roared to the heavens. Her rage and grief pouring out of her. Why was it so unfair?! Why should she have to suffer this way? She had finally won, they finally had victory, they had destroyed the one enemy that could keep her Rider and her in constant danger, this was what they had been wanting ever since she had hatched. And now, now that they finally had that peace, now that they were all safe, now that she and Eragon could live without fearing an attack every night, or that the next battle to come would be the last, or that they could be forced into servitude, now they had nothing to fear… And when they finally had it all, she couldn't even be with the one she had been fighting for! It was taken from her, they were no longer bonded: what did that mean?!

She roared again, and as the roar died in her throat, she fixed her blazing eyes upon the ground and began to tear at it with her claws, stamping her feet, jumping into the air to slam back to the earth until her bones rattled. She released a jet of fire, the hottest flames she could summon forth, burning the grass and the ground until there was nothing left but charred and black earth beneath her feet like that of a volcano. She smashed her tail into the ground, beat her wings and continued to roar and flame as she attacked invisible enemies, relishing in her battle-rage as she vented all of her feelings into pure, uncontrollable violence. She faintly heard a noise, someone shouting her name, but she blocked it out, unable to listen as she was swallowed by everything inside.

Once, she had sworn to herself, that should Eragon be killed, she would go on a bloodthirsty rampage, and she would not stop until she had killed and burned every single one of those responsible for it. And now, as she had admitted, it was as if Eragon had died, she could no longer feel him, he was no longer hers, it was like they had never been, as if they were strangers. But she couldn't even take her vengeance upon the one who had done this, because he was already dead and gone. She had been denied _EVERYTHING_: her youth, her species, her future, her happiness, her rider, and now even her revenge!

Finally, her spell of rage seemed to calm, like the thunderstorm that had spilled forth all of its lightning, and now only the clouds themselves remained. She found all of her energy to be suddenly gone, her body sagging and she slumped onto her haunches, head dipping low, her nostrils leaking smoke as she whined with distress. She closed her eyes as she allowed the grief to wash over her. Despite venting everything she could possibly give, the sadness still remained, it would not leave her.

Suddenly, she felt hand press upon her foreleg, and where her head was she could not see them. Instant rage filled her to the point of bursting once again, that even now, when she was at her lowest, she couldn't even grieve alone because she was part of some stupid army! They could not leave her alone, and it made her blind with fury. She whirled around, a roar bursting from her chest as she opened her jaws wide, lashing her claws through the air as she made to attack the one who had disturbed her –

A second before her jaws could swallow the two-legged, he fell to the ground, scooting back away from her, and she saw the familiar golden hair, the pointed ears and blue eyes of Eragon. Instantly snapping her jaws shut, she was just an inch away from his face, and she could painfully see every emotion that passed across his face as she stared at him in dumbfounded horror. Shock, confusion, pain, and… _fear_.

Saphira felt her insides churn as she beheld the one who she loved more than anything in this world _fear_ her. He tried to wipe it away from himself as fast as he could, but she had seen it, and it was enough to make her wail in distress. What had she done? _What had she done?! _

She had attacked Eragon… partner-of-her-heart-and-mind Eragon! She had had every intention of killing him, and she had never ever had the purpose of hurting him before, it was alien to ever think of anyone else hurting him, let alone herself… To hurt him was to hurt her in the deepest way, and she had intended to kill him! Disgust and horror utterly filled as she quickly back away from him, trying to put as much distance between herself and him as much as possible. If she had still been bonded, she would never have done such a thing. She would have sensed him there, known who he was, never ever _NEVER_ attacked him…

"Saphira…" Eragon tried to say as he quickly got to his feet, and tried to walk towards her, his face imploring and sad as he reached for her, but she quickly shook her head scooting back away from him, unable to speak. She tried to escape him as fast as she could, and unable to bear his gaze a second longer, she turned away and leapt into the air.

Her wings strained, aching with pain as she attempted fly away, far away, trying to leave the hurt and the pain behind her, thought it dogged her relentlessly with every wing-beat. The elves couldn't fix them, if they could they would have done so already, Eragon would not have been so defeated upon her confirming that she could no longer feel him. They couldn't fix this, and she couldn't stay, not when she might put Eragon in such danger. She never thought she would have to save him from herself, but she now had to do just that. She flew away, as fast as the winds could carry her, even as she heard Eragon screaming on the ground behind her.

"SAPHIRA!" but she only wailed in grief, unable to shed the tears that humanoid creatures could, as her heart broke as she soared in the sky, something that had brought her such pleasure once before… only to now add to her misery.

* * *

She flew south for three days, then headed west, avoiding all civilisation she could. She knew not of her destination, only that she needed to put as much distance between herself and others as much as she could. Particularly _one _other.

She only hunted when she was truly hungry, and ate a lot in an attempt to drown out her thoughts with blood and meat. She ate twelve deer in one sitting, gorging on everything: fur, skin, antlers, hooves, bones and all as she tried not to think about what she was leaving behind. She had never been truly on her own before, and only now, with no other thoughts to await, no feelings coming to her through the bond she once shared… it made her feel small, insignificant and alone. And as her despair grew, the faster she flew. Until eventually, she found herself landing upon a cliff that overlooked the Sea. It was then that she was forced to think over what it was she was going to do. To stay meant that she had to hide for the rest of her days, for she did not want anyone to find her, especially Eragon, if she was a danger to her most beloved one then she couldn't even trust herself anymore. She could remember all too clearly the look in Shruikan's eyes, the madness that had been born there, the sadness and loneliness, it had almost overtaken her, it had been an option for her to choose once she knew the truth. She couldn't bear it if she became like that, a monster of rage and hate and grief that would kill everything and anything she came across.

The only hope she could find within herself was that perhaps there was a way to fix this. If she didn't have any hope at all, she would have succumbed to despair and wallowed until death claimed her by any means. And she was too proud, even now, to consider such an unfitting defeat for one such as herself, to give up, surrender without a fight. No, she HAD to find a way to fix this, she couldn't give up! She would find a way to fix this, to fix herself, even if she had to find the darkest black magic, she would be reunited with Eragon again, she swore it!

Looking out onto the horizon above the infinite ocean before her, she wondered if there were any lands to the south… perhaps, would there be any dragons there? As she well knew, dragons had strange and unpredictable yet very powerful magic. What if she could find more of her own kind in order to help her, perhaps the wild ones would be able to save her, some might even have knowledge from past experience with the riders. If not… then at least she would no longer be alone. She was the closest thing to a wild dragon in Alagasia at the moment, it would be only fitting that she be with others if she was to remain alone all her life.

And so, with a heavy heart, she took a leap of faith, knowing that there could be no land out there, she could be flying into nothing and dooming herself. Then at least death would be a relief. And so she began her journey, to where she did not know, nor as to what she would encounter…


	2. Sighting

Chapter 2 – Sighting –

* * *

Saphira flew for days. Just as she had flown with Eragon to the vault of souls, she now flew across the ocean, heading south at first before turning more to the west after a few hundred miles. She conserved her energy as much as she could, and thankfully the wind was behind her, allowing her to glide mostly along the air currents that tickled beneath the feathers of her wings. She flew high over the clouds, avoiding the worst of the weather should there be any, and despite the almost freezing temperatures and thin air that made her almost dizzy, the wind was more co-operative as it helped to speed her along. She didn't know what she was looking for, but all she knew was that she had to keep going. It was illogical to think that there were no other lands out there besides Alagaesia, besides, both the human and elven histories tell that they sailed to Alagaesia and settled there from a previous land… the name of which oddly was forgotten. So Saphira knew that there MUST be something out there… the only question now, was where was it and was she headed towards it? She and Eragon had once crossed a river, where he had picked a point at random in which to cross. It was only once they were in the air and half way across that Saphira noticed that they were at the river's bend, where the river was at its widest. Had she made a similar mistake?

It mattered little now, and thinking of even memories of Eragon made her whimper with grief, her heart aching, her mind constantly searching her soul for that connection that was no longer there. It had become a habit now, of searching for him within herself and not finding him, as if this was all some elaborate dream that she would soon wake from. And always she would be reminded of her loss, her heart twisting as a result, and so she pushed herself ahead, banishing the emotions and only allowing logic into her mind. It was now the only thing that kept her sane.

She flew for a whole day, night and then half way into the next day, and even with the wind on her side she was completely exhausted and was beginning to drag in the air. Her breathing became heavy, her wing muscles were screaming for release, but she could spot no land upon which to rest. And so, even though she was incredibly wary, she glided down towards the ocean, circling above the waves as she used her superior vision to see beneath the water to any threats that might lie below. When she could see nothing, she carefully landed on the water, spreading out her wings and letting her belly make her float, her legs dangling beneath her in the waves. She growled as she felt her muscles in her chest and wing-joints give a long shriek as she finally relaxed them. She wanted to sleep, but could not, fearing that some sea predator would attack her from below should she be distracted, and so constantly had her mind scanning for the presence of another in the waters around her.

She sat there for hours, iron will forcing her eyes to remain open and her mind alert as she allowed her body to rest but kept herself painfully awake. The sun was beginning to set when she finally moved, lifting her soaking, water-heavy, rather stiff wings as she used her tail to propel herself forward and she lifted herself up into the air.

On again she flew, but this time she could only go through the night before her body was once again begging for rest, and her mind was ready to fold on her and make her drop into unconsciousness from exhaustion. She desperately began to look for anywhere to land, and was half contemplating landing on the water again and against her better judgement, sleep. But then, by the dawn's first light, she saw a small speck on the water, and grasping at the hope, she shot towards it, to find a small island jutting out of the sea. It was very small indeed: perhaps twice as she was long and half that distance wide, there was no life on the island, only a few oddly shaped trees with long straight trunks, no branches and large triangular leaves. But it didn't matter, all that she cared about was that she had a solid, safe place to rest. She landed on the island, and immediately dropped where she stood, and fell straight to sleep, panting with her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth as her body shook from exertion.

She slept for perhaps an entire day and half of the next night, but when she awoke, her body felt rested, starving hungry, but able to move again. As she suspected, there was no life on the tiny island save for the vegetation, and Saphira had to fly close to the ocean over the remainder of the night as she scanned the waters for any fish to eat. She eventually found a pod of Dolphins, but was only able to catch and eat one, as by the time she had eaten it whilst flying, the others had panicked and fled, diving deep under the ocean surface.

Saphira carried on her journey, noting how as she progressed she found a number of small islands like the one she had slept on. And so she slept and rested as often as she could in order to conserve her strength, for she never knew when these islands would disappear and she would be back in unbroken water again with nowhere to land. As she predicted, the islands eventually thinned out and stopped appearing all together, and the ocean stretched out around her once again for miles and miles in all directions. But it seemed as if those islands were the halfway point, as when she flew for three days more, her body close to dropping from the sky with exhaustion, she suddenly saw something upon the horizon.

At first, she thought it to be another island, but then, the outline of it stretched and warped and took form until she was suddenly seeing a huge mainland rise before her. Her spirits raised slightly at the sight of true land; she flew towards it, jerking and falling in the air before she would catch herself on weak wings. She crashed on top of a cliff, her legs unable to support her as she collapsed onto the hard earthen ground, brittle tufts of grass sprinkled with snow crunching beneath her weight, the bitter cold chill in the air making each breath she took like a sharp sting in her lungs. Her wings had hardly hit the ground after her, before she was unconscious.

She slept for days, on the spot where she supposed was the north-eastern tip of this new mainland. As she awoke, she found herself covered in snow, her feathers on her wings stiff and cracking as she folded her wings closer to her body. She was grateful that her wings were feathered, unlike Thorn's, who had leathery membranes, for she knew that her feathers had stopped her wings from freezing. She was not cold – the inner fire that burned in her stomach was enough to keep her warm from a little snow – but her body was dwindling. Getting a good look at herself, she could see her ribs clearly on her sides, her stomach dipping in, and her scales filthy from the salt of the sea, her body unkempt from not grooming for over a week. It disgusted her that she had let herself get into such a bad state. Shaking the snow from her body, she spent two hours cleaning and grooming herself, for no matter where she was, no matter what state, she always thought that she should look her best. She had gone into battle after hours of grooming so that all could look upon her and see not just the power and might of the dragons, but also their unequalled beauty, and she being the last female of her kind, should be held in special regard as the most beautiful of all.

With her grooming done, she was back in well-kept form, but she still had to do something about her great hunger and loss of weight. She was physically weak from the lack of food; the sea had offered her much to eat, from whale carcasses floating on the surface, to the odd fish, shark and dolphin, but from flying for so long and hard, she burned off whatever calories she ate in the speed of next to no time. She was disappointed by the fact that her wings physically ached and pained her even to stand up, she had always been saddened to be earth bound but she could understand her body's need to rest. She walked from the cliff where she had landed into a thick and ancient forest of pine trees, all covered in snow, the layer on the ground even coming up to her ankles as she carefully trod her way through. Despite the fact that it was spring, the deep snow told her that she was in a very northern part of this new land, where it was only ever winter.

Hunting for most of the afternoon, she stalked through the trees, unending in her search for food, until she found the trail of a group of moose. Following their trail south, Saphira soon found them at the bottom of a small incline in the forest, where she proceeded to use her fire in order to box the suddenly panicked animals into a tight space at the bottom of the hill. There was perhaps thirteen of them, as Saphira pounced into the dip, using tail, tooth and claw to kill every single one of them, until the snow was stained red with blood. Once they were all gone, she quickly set to eating them all, gorging until she felt her stomach swell and bulge. She slept amongst the bones of her kill as she allowed her body to process her meal.

Once she awoke again, she knew that she soon had to make a decision about what to do next. Where was she to go? What was to happen to her? She had found no evidence of dragons as of yet, and perhaps they were further into the mainland or perhaps they did not exist at all.

Either way, Saphira thought that seeing as she was facing southwest, she might as well head in that direction. A line of mountains lay before her on the southern horizon, and she could tell in the dip of the land that a valley lay to the west of her. For some reason, she decided to avoid the valley and head straight for the mountains. Perhaps what she sought was just beyond them.

* * *

Smaug sank his teeth deep into the carcass of the great bear he had killed, the blood and juices flowing down from his jaws as he ripped the creature apart with one bite and wrench of his head. It was a freakishly large bear to be sure, otherwise Smaug's hunger would never even have been touched by it. As it was, the very large bear was a fitting ending to Smaug's starvation and the twelfth meal he had caught that day, having already consumed four sheep, two large bulls, three deer, a large fish from the Long-Lake and an Ox. As he finished his bloody meal, Smaug felt his stomach begin to settle, the last remains of his fasting hunger fading away. Having just slept for the past several years, it was no wonder that he had not wanted any meal sooner. Being a dragon of his size, he could sleep for years without the need to eat, his body going into a hibernation like state, where he would only awaken once his body had finally digested everything he had last eaten years before.

It was a cycle that Smaug had gotten into since he had claimed the Lonely Mountain as his own: patrol his borders every now and then, eat until he was full, then sleep it off, then a few years later he would wake again. In the immediate years after claiming Erebor, he had been very open about his presence, making sure that everyone knew that the Mountain, the treasures within, and the surrounding lands were all his and he was not leaving any time soon. He had harassed those filthy piglets of Lake-Town, warned away all the elves of Mirkwood and driven any and all dwarves within a hundred league radius of the Mountain. He would not let anyone near his treasure, even though no one would DARE steal from him – the greatest and mightiest dragon of the age in all of Middle-Earth!

But as the years had passed without incident, Smaug had allowed himself to become more relaxed as he allowed himself to sleep peacefully within and amongst his many treasures. And the longer he slept and nothing happened, the more content he became that he had cowed all those in his dominion under his tyrannical reign so that they would never even dream of defying him, let alone angering him.

And yet, in the recent amount of time that Smaug had been awake, he had found himself… growing bored. The life of a dragon was only as interesting as those who surrounded him, in Smaug's opinion. When he had lived in the Withered Heath, surrounded by dragons as well as all sorts of nightmarish creatures, everything had been a battle for survival, a test of wits, every sense put on edge in order to make it through one day at a time. And it had been glorious. Smaug had been in his element when he had fought for his dominance, and he was not without his show of scars for it, though nothing that could mar his magnificent perfection. The Withered Heath had created the ferocious dragon that Smaug had become, but it had always lacked the one thing that Smaug coveted above all things: **_Gold_**. All dragons were partial to shiny things: things of value and worth, all things precious and beautiful he wanted and he took, without question. But the Withered Heath was the last refuge for what little was left of the dragons, and so no mortals were close by in order to plunder their trinkets from. For dragons loved treasure, but could not make even a brass pan themselves – a saving grace for the mortals, as Smaug knew that they were good for nothing else. So he had attacked and taken small keeps and attacked dwarf mines in his youth, plundering it all in order to create a horde most becoming of one such as himself. During this time, he had created a name for himself – or rather, several – amongst the mortals, such as Smaug the terrible, Smaug the Golden, and Smaug the Magnificent, all of which pleased him greatly. But as the years had gone by, Smaug had heard word of a great treasure created by the dwarves of Erebor, one that their greedy king flaunted and had grown mad and sick from the treasure. Upon hearing such wealth, Smaug had known that he must have it. He had attacked and destroyed Dale, conquered Erebor, evicted the dwarves and taken the gold for himself all in the space of a day. He had been sure to carve it into the memories of all those that he had allowed to survive that day.

Smaug hummed contentedly as he allowed his memories of his past glory to wash over him, (his only source of amusement recently) as he lifted his wing to lick the talons of his fingers clean. Unlike most dragons, Smaug didn't have four legs and two wings, instead, his forelegs and wings were one, giving him a larger wingspan as well as more reach with his claws, as he had three digit hands on each wing joint: a thumb and two fingers. Smaug had never given much thought to his differences, there was enough variation in the dragon gene-pool that no dragon was ever born to look exactly like another, they could have a different array of horns, scale colours, body shapes, heights, weights, lengths, tail ends, face decoration, even how the scales flowed down the length of the body.

Once he was done cleaning his magnificent red and gold scales and black talons of blood and gore, Smaug got to his feet, stretching out his neck and back until he heard his bones crack. He released a sigh through his nostrils, drowsiness already overcoming his lazy mind as he lethargically as he turned back to face the general direction of his mountain. He rolled his shoulders as he prepared to bound forward in preparation for flight. Smaug did envy the four-legged dragons for this one instance, where they could leap up from a standstill with four legs, he had to bound forward in order to get his wing up and ready before leaping up. But, it hardly mattered now, as he grumbled to himself and began to leap forward –

The wind changed, and Smaug's nostrils flared as he caught a scent. He skipped to a stop, legs and arms locking into place as he shot his head up into the air to sample the wind. What he scented, made him freeze still in place, a deep rage coming over him as scented the presence of an intruder in his territory.

Looking out to the west, Smaug watched the forest, as if the trees themselves would bend under his will to reveal what he sought. The wind sang a haunting song as it raced through the Grey Mountains, where Smaug was just at the bottom of them closest to his Mountain. He had to come this far away from his Mountain in order to find suitable abundance of food, seeing as the lands closely surrounding Erebor he had turned to ash as a physical marker of his presence. But this was still a part of his territory; his borders didn't end for another few hundred miles to the north, in the centre of the Grey Mountain range and well away from the Withered Heath. Smaug knew that somewhere close by, there was an unwelcome presence in his lands, one that he swore would regret that mistake.

He leapt into the air and flew quickly out towards the west, following the scent trail, not content with thinking that the owner of the scent was far enough away for his liking. He had to see for himself, he had to drive out this particular intruder. Despite being a hundred miles away from Erebor, it was still too close for comfort, and he would not stop until either the intruder was dead or would never even think about going into his territory again. For he knew the scent of the creature, and it both angered him and intrigued him.

It was the scent of a dragon.

Smaug had thought himself to be the last, or one of the last. He knew that perhaps a few lesser Drakes, maybe even some cold drakes still existed somewhere, maybe they were all huddling together and praying for survival in the Withered Heath. However, Smaug had cut his ties to that place a long time ago, and as a consequence to all dragon-kind as well. They were a dying breed and Smaug had grown sick of the weaklings that he had been surrounded by, the Great Fire Drakes dying out to be replaced by ordinary Wyrms. Smaug had not seen another dragon in hundreds of years, and he had thought them all gone during his time in Erebor; it had not bothered him so much at the time for he had his treasure and he was undisturbed. To have a dragon suddenly appear in his domain now was most peculiar.

Scenting the air, Smaug followed the trail, trying to hone in on the exact spot where his prey must be waiting, being very foolish, very ignorant, or very stupid to come this close to the heart of Smaug's territory, where none had come before on pain of death. As if the land itself was with him, the wind picked up at just that moment, and brought to Smaug the scent once again, telling him that he was heading in the right direction, and also giving him a stronger sample of the scent.

But what he smelled made him almost flip in the air in shock. Surely he must be mistaken!

The scent was female.

Smaug shook his head and took another whiff of the scent, but still the spice of female pheromones bloomed in the air, making Smaug dizzy for a second as he tried to process this. He had not seen another female in over four hundred years, because of their rarity he had thought that the last had died some few years ago, for he had not heard the mating calls of one in so long… And yet, here was one, in his territory.

Curious and perplexed as well as agitated, he drove his wings down in order to speed him along his chase.

Smaug eventually came to a ravine, where he landed just south of where he thought his prey might be, a light frost making the earth crunch underneath him, though the soft pads in his feet did their best to muffle the sound. The spring air was heavy with spores and pollen, but Smaug could still scent the female, her aroma becoming stronger and more intoxicating the closer he got, giving him a few details about her. She was young, but physically mature, not impregnated, not ill, and not yet in heat. Smaug followed the scent as he slunk through the forest, trying to keep upwind of his prey as he came closer to the ravine. The land became uneven with rocks as he came up through a mountain pass, and spying ahead with his keen vision, Smaug saw that there was a rocky incline that overlooked the ravine. Choosing his steps carefully, Smaug silently and stealthily made his way towards the top of the rocky hill so that he might get a better look at his adversary and have the element of surprise when he attacked. Female or no, he would observe her, and if he did think it worth his time then he would attack and drive her away or even kill her like he would if she were male. Despite her gender, female dragons were just as covetous of gold as males, perhaps even more so with their feminine vanity.

As he approached the edge of the rocks, his long fingers curled around the edge as he looked over the lip and spied down onto the stream below. There, his breath froze in his throat, and all thoughts he had been thinking came crashing to a halt inside his mind as he beheld the creature before him.

He had been correct, for a dragoness stood by the ravine, dipping her muzzle into the cool waters for a drink. She was a vision of beauty and elegance! Her scales were of the most gorgeous sapphire blue, making it look as if she were made from brilliant sapphire gems, the deeper blue on her back melted into an almost silver-gold on her belly, and she shimmered as the moisture in the air made her scales glisten. She had two sleek and pointed horns on the back of her head which curled upwards towards the sky, her head triangular, her face smooth and unmarked by scars or any imperfections, her eyes a more vibrant and deeper blue then any Smaug had ever seen before. Her wings were feathered, Smaug was interested to see, instead of the leathery membranes that was more common amongst dragons; though the feathers gave her a rather regal and elegant appeal as well as a more solid stature. She was perhaps half of Smaug's size, though from the curve of her neck, the thickness of her jaw and the way her chest was built and condensed, Smaug knew that she was no mere wyrm, but a Great Fire-Drake like himself! As Smaug's greedy eyes ravaged over her body, he couldn't help a dark glee enter his black heart as he beheld her; she was the image of feminine perfection: muscular, graceful proportions, beautiful, young, nicely curved talons, gleaming scales, well groomed, healthy…

It suddenly occurred to Smaug that this situation might be a little too good to be true.

He scanned her with a more scrutinising gaze, and saw that she was clearly fatigued, and recently had been starved though she was quickly adding weight, as he could tell by the way her body looked lean though her ribs were only slightly showing. Her eyes were heavy, and she often closed them as she dipped her mouth into the water of the mountain stream for a drink, and she had not noticed him yet – which Smaug's ego would be quick to say was his superb stealth skills – he knew that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. She was probably too exhausted to even listen out for his breathing. As he looked her over, he did not see many scars upon her body, in fact hardly any. He tried to crane his head in order to spot the shoulder that was not facing him, trying to see if she had a recent territorial bite marks from a mate. But to his surprise, from what he could see he saw that she had not even a scratch as to show that she had EVER been mated.

A sick grin twisted his face as he contemplated what this meant. He had a fully mature adult female in his territory, one that was clearly unmated, alone, exhausted, in need of shelter and food, and a magnificent sight to behold. It was his darkest pleasures come true!

She was here for him – he could see no other reason for her being here. She must have come to try and persuade him to be her mate, either out of desperation for hatchlings and to continue their species, or because she wanted the security and privilege that came with being his mate. Either way, Smaug couldn't suppress his grin as he knew that he wouldn't deny her.

He straightened himself to his full height, blocking out the sun that was directly behind him and allowing his shadow to be dramatically cast over the ravine, to where it fell straight across the blue female's back. She stiffened instantly and snapped around to face him, bearing her teeth as she growled in surprise, though he saw the moment when she realised who and what he was, the shock registering in her eyes as she beheld him. Pride flattered by her unabashed staring, Smaug smirked triumphantly as he practically flowed down from his perch atop the rocks to stand a hundred feet away from the surprised female.

Revealing himself to her, he grinned, showing his teeth as he awaited her fawning admiration.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, your comments really made me smile and I'm so happy that you guys are as excited for this story as I am! :)**

**Sorry that this chapter was a little shorter then the last, but it's mainly setting up for the next one ;) So, please review and tell me what you thought of: Saphira's journey? Her in Middle-Earth? Smaug's thoughts? Smaug finding Saphira? His reaction to her? How do you think their little "conversation" will go? All comments and reviews are welcome and hopefully I'll have the next chapter up ASAP! **


	3. First Contact

Chapter 3 – First Contact –

* * *

Saphira first knew that she was being watched when she felt something brush along the parameters of her mind.

Since she had entered this new land, she had made sure to reinforce the walls around her mind but stretching out her sensors so that she could know whenever something drew close. She had been travelling south west, going through the mountains that she had previously spied, and now she was on the southern point of the mountain range, and she could see that perhaps a hundred miles or so south, was a single solitary peak, to the south-west of that was a huge forest, but Saphira saw that if she carried on straight west from where she was that the mountains continued on. Knowing that it would be her best chance to stay hidden and to perhaps find what she sought, Saphira decided that she would stick to these northern mountains.

Her wings had healed well, the muscles had regained their strength with two days' worth of rest and Saphira had been flying lazily along her route through the mountains. She was steadily regaining her weight, eating whenever she had the opportunity and always sleeping afterwards in order to absorb the calories and not burn them off with excess movement. She had eventually come across a ravine, and stopped for a long drink, allowing her exhaustion to fully take hold of her as she closed her eyes momentarily. _Perhaps it would be wise to seek a place to nest for now, resettle myself and then continue in a few days when I am rested._ She thought to herself. Looking at the mountains around her she knew that there must be a cave big enough to hold her somewhere within those peaks. Perhaps she could find a cave and stay there for a few days to get back to full strength. It would only take her three perhaps four days; she was an excellent hunter and she had seen no predators so far that could match her.

But whilst she drank the waters of the stream, dipping her muzzle into the cold water for another long mouthful, she felt the edges of her mind detect a presence. Instantly on alert, Saphira gently probed at the mind in question, so tentatively that the consciousness would not even feel her. The mind was protected, but naturally, not through any self-made fortification, and Saphira knew that she might be able to easily break into it if need be. But she felt it come closer and closer, meaning that it knew where Saphira was and it was coming onto her position. She couldn't scent it because it was downwind, but she wanted the element of surprise yet had no time with which to hide for an ambush. So Saphira staid exactly where she was and acted as if nothing were amiss. Her back was to her adversary, so she relied on her hearing and the feel of the earth vibrations and the wind that the creature disturbed. From what she could tell, it was up high, perhaps on the rocks on the incline above her, but it also carried a lot of weight.

However, she was unprepared when the shadow was cast over her back, and she glanced to see a long serpentine neck with a crocodile-like head in the shadow. Heart suddenly hammering in her chest with surprise, Saphira spun around, a surprised growl erupting from her jaws as she bared her teeth at her attacker. She looked up to where she knew the creature to be, but could only see the silhouette where the sun was directly behind it. It was only when it moved down the incline and out of the light that Saphira saw what it was, and she hissed under her breath with shock.

Slinking down with the fluid motion of a snake, came a dragon! Saphira was left utterly speechless as she stared at him, for now that she could scent him as he stood only a hundred feet away, she could scent the deep musk of masculinity that radiated out of his every pore. He was perhaps half the size that Shruikan had been, but was still almost twice as large as her. He appeared to be so odd compared to what she had expected of a dragon. Unlike her and every dragon she had encountered, this male had only two legs instead of four, his wings were not folded against his back, instead he had two long fingers and a thumb coming from his wing hinge, allowing him to use his wings like front legs, the membranes of the wings folding behind him. He was covered in red scales, similar to Thorn, though his underbelly was a gold that sparkled oddly in a certain light, as if he had shrapnel pieces of metal stuck between his scales. He did not have horns, instead he had large spikes protruding from the back of his head that flexed and moved, Saphira gathered that they helped to express his mood. His eyes were a brilliant flame-yellow that glowed as he stared at her. Saphira did not give much thought to his differences other than to assess for weaknesses. Perhaps this was how dragons here had evolved, and she knew him to be a dragon for the familiar scent of their kind clung to him as it did to her.

Saphira shrunk herself into her own mind, and sealed herself within, strengthening her defences so that this male would never be able to breach into her mind. It was the first lesson her master Glaedr had taught her for when facing other dragons, to look for weaknesses, and to never leave your mind open until the dragon was trustworthy or clearly not an enemy. Saphira's eyes scanned over the male before her, noticing how he had several battle-scars that lined his body, from one scratched across his muzzle, another down his thigh, and a peculiar one upon his chest: a black scar where a scale appeared to be missing. Saphira looked back to the face of the male, to see him almost grinning to himself.

Although she was loath to ever retreat from a fight, Saphira knew when something would do her no good, and picking a fight with a territorial male whilst she wasn't at her strongest was DEFINITELY not good for her. She began to back away slowly, head lowered, though not in a threatening pose, her wings a quarter of the way extended, her tail twitching with her agitation, her lips curling slightly to show her distrust. But she didn't make it three steps before something happened that she certainly did not expect.

"Going somewhere, my pretty one?"

Saphira was so shocked that her head bolted up, a yelp escaping from her jaws as her eyes bulged in her head. The male had spoken! He… he had spoken the two-legged language! She had seen his jaw move, his lips distort and sound had been produced from his throat that she felt vibrate through the air in a deep voice. Saphira continued to stare, completely shocked beyond anything she had ever been in her life, for she had never seen nor even heard of a dragon – wild or bound – that could speak! The male chuckled darkly, adding to her surprise as she realised just how much human like sounds he might be able to make.

"It is considered rude to not show respect to your superior," he told her smugly, his eyes glinting in his head as he fixed his eyes upon her. "But since you are young, I will forgive this… once," he chuckled again.

All thoughts of leaving left Saphira's mind as she felt her anger bristle at his remark. She straightened herself to her full height, a scowl forming upon her face as she dug her claws into the earth. How dare this male compare himself to her as her equal, let alone to surpass her! He did not know her, he might be bigger then she, but she had fought many battles and learned many ancient secrets that would have put many dragons – even in the days of the riders – to shame. She bowed to no one, only to those who were clearly deserving of her respect, and those had been a very select few. This male was not one of those few.

As she drew herself to her full height, puffing out her chest and unfurling her wings in a display of dominance, she saw the male's eyes darken with the threat of anger as his smug smirk turned into a distrustful line. Saphira still did not open her mind to him, not even to communicate, her body language should be plenty enough for him.

"Careful young one," the male gave off a growl, but Saphira only narrowed her eyes at him, unaffected by his quick mood-change. "Is it possible that you are so young that you do not know who's presence you stand in?"

Saphira remained silent, only watching him with her piercing blue eyes.

"I am Smaug!" the male proclaimed proudly, straightening his wing-forelegs and puffing out his chest as he towered over her, striking a pose as he lashed his tail behind him, evidentially trying to impress her as he continued to speak. "Conqueror of the Lonely Mountain, destroyer of Dale, Bain of men, the dragon-dread! Smaug the magnificent! Smaug the golden! The chiefest and greatest of all calamities!"

Saphira sat there with a purposefully bored expression upon her face. It had the desired effect as she saw the male look at her as if in shock and/or horror and outrage, bringing no end of sick pleasure to Saphira as she watched him writhe. Served him right, in her opinion. He thought he was the greatest? As he called himself: 'the greatest calamity'? Saphira would have laughed, she had faced a threat far greater then what this male appeared to be and survived, she had even had a hand in slaying such a beast.

Thinking of Shruikan made her remember the look in his eyes before he died, the loneliness, the madness… the loss of a rider, the same predicament that Saphira now faced. Remembering her reason to be here, Saphira almost opened her mind to speak with this dragon, but decided against it. This one was too pompous and arrogant to know anything useful. She would search out one, perhaps an elder dragon, who would have more wisdom and respect for a female of her calibre then this fool here. She simply turned on her heal dismissively and started to walk away from the male so that she might have enough room to open her wings without buffeting him.

"Don't you dare turn your back on me!" came a ferocious hiss, and Saphira was so caught off guard that she had to twist her neck around so that she could regard the male, Smaug, with a quirked brow. He was absolutely furious, his lips quivering in a barely suppressed snarl of rage, his eyes narrowed and focused on her dangerously. Saphira felt her stomach quiver, not with fear, but apprehension for the fight that she could feel coming. "I know why you are here,"

That got Saphira's attention, so much so that she turned straight back around in order to face Smaug fully, looking at him with wide and hopeful eyes. Could it be? Was it true? Was her journey, her torment already over?! Smaug seemed a little more pleased now that she had turned to face him, a small smirk creeping across his lips.

"Females will do anything for their basic needs," he muttered, perhaps thinking it was to himself though Saphira heard it, and it both confused and greatly angered her.

But then, the male – Smaug, she reminded herself as she tried to pronounce the odd name in her mind – did something again which she was not expecting. He leaned forward, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent, rumbling at her as he came closer. Saphira took an instinctive step back, causing Smaug to growl at her impatiently and despite herself, Saphira suddenly rooted herself in place. She watched, absolutely dumbfounded as he brought his head alongside hers, going parallel with her neck as his snout came towards her shoulders, sniffing her and maw slightly open and tongue hissing out to taste the air. Saphira snarled when he made a move to come closer to her, and snapped out her wing so that it batted him in the face and pushed him back. Smaug, taken completely by surprise, back-pedalled away from her, shaking his head from the force of the blow. Saphira glared at him for his rude, insolent behaviour, snorting steam from her nose as once again she turned on her heal and made to leave.

But suddenly, the male was above and in front of her, rearing back on his hind legs as he spread out his impressive wingspan, flapping them lightly, herding Saphira backwards towards the south a couple of steps as she was forced to retreat from his advance as he walked towards her, a glare in his eyes and his jaw locked with determination. Saphira growled at him, showing her teeth, warning him, but he took no heed and continued to push her back, forcing her to go in the direction that he desired. When she hesitated to move a fraction of a second too long, he then moved his head towards her, perhaps to bump his head into her and push her physically, but now beginning to both panic and become infuriated by these antics, Saphira completely misinterpreted the meaning. All she saw was a draconic head coming towards her full of teeth.

Without even needing to plan the move, Saphira easily and quickly side stepped around Smaug and bit into his neck, snapping her jaws at him defensively. It was not something that would harm him or cause him to bleed, but it was enough to make him hurt. Smaug yelped in surprise and pain, reeling away from her, and then becoming eerily still as he had his back to her.

Saphira did not feel fear, but she still felt a sense of dread creep into her stomach as she realised that something had just gone very wrong.

Without warning, Smaug exploded with furious anger as he spun in place, his long tail whipping through the air, aimed directly for Saphira's head! She ducked under the blow but then barely had enough time to hop back out of the way as Smaug smashed his fist towards the ground where she had been crouching. He glared at her with glowing eyes, teeth bared as he snarled with uncontrollable rage.

Saphira felt the rush of battle race through her veins and enjoyed it immensely as she bellowed out a torrent of flames that hit Smaug right beneath his chin onto his softer underside of his neck. He flinched but showed only slight discomfort as the flames bathed over him. Before Saphira could stop him, Smaug rushed forward and rammed his shoulder into her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs as she was pushed back and fell to the floor awkwardly on her back. Quickly shaking the wooziness from her head, Saphira expertly flipped herself back onto her belly and made to leap upwards.

She knew that in order to win this fight she would need every advantage she had. Smaug was bigger, stronger, and intelligent to boot, he had reach and all of that worked against her on the ground. But Saphira knew that her true advantage would be in the air. She had yet to meet any dragon that could best her in flight: she was the fastest, the most agile, the greatest flier of the skies; She could use her speed and agility to out move Smaug, he had reach but that only counted on the ground, seeing as his arms were a part of his wings, he needed them occupied to keep him aloft, whereas she had no such problem. From the scars on his body, Smaug seemed to have fought a few many battles in his life, but Saphira had tactical training and experience with fighting other dragons, not for territorial disputes like what Smaug had most likely fought, but she had trained to maim and kill. She could use all of this to her advantage.

But it appeared that Smaug knew also that the best way for HIM to win this fight was by keeping her earth bound, as she discovered, when as she tried to get to her feet to jump into the air, she felt a sharp pull and turned around sharply to see one of Smaug's hands gripping her tail and pulling her towards him. Saphira roared in outrage and pulled against him, though his strength was great, she held her own as she used all the strength she had, digging her talons into the earth as she locked her legs into place. But slowly, she felt herself edging backwards inch by inch. When she felt the pressure build between them until she thought she might snap, a sudden idea came to Saphira, and she simply let go.

Smaug's over-strength in which he had been using to pull her in, suddenly had no resistance, and Saphira flew backwards along the ground, Smaug yelping as he was suddenly caught off balance by the shift. As she was wrenched towards him, Saphira turned herself so that she was on her side as she came close to Smaug. Lifting one hind leg, her foot hit against his chest and reversing the momentum, Saphira pushed off of him, shoving Smaug backwards whilst also propelling herself forwards at the same time. Caught off guard, Smaug's grip was not enough to hold her as she slipped through his fingers.

Knowing he wouldn't be back long enough to let her get airborne, Saphira shot herself towards the rocky incline that Smaug had been perched upon earlier, and bounded off of it back towards Smaug, and leapt straight onto his back! Smaug roared as he stumbled from her weight suddenly hitting him with such force. He bucked beneath her and tried to reach for her with claws and jaws and swat her with his tail, but she kept out of his reach and snapped at his neck, her claws creating bloody furrows in his wing membranes as she struggled.

With her hind legs on his back, Saphira reared up, placing more weight upon the concentrated area and pushing him further down. She then reached around his neck with her forelegs, hooking them around from just behind his head and squeezing his neck in an effort to strangle him. Knowing what she was doing, Smaug's frantic efforts to displace her grew more ferocious, snapping his jaws at her though she tried to restrain him as bit his snout.

But suddenly, Smaug lurched his weight to one side, causing one of Saphira's hind legs to slip forward, unbalancing her. Sensing her weakness, before she could readjust herself, Smaug threw his weight forward, sending her tumbling off of him, even as she clawed and fought to keep her place on top of him. Realising how vulnerable she was, Saphira desperately tried to squirm her way out from under his shadow, hoping to bound away and get far enough just to leap into the sky. But she suddenly felt a blast of pain as she felt Smaug's teeth sink into the shoulder of one of her wings. Saphira was suddenly powerless, knowing that any resistance could mean that he might tear her wing off, and she was petrified by the idea to be without flight. But then, she felt herself being dragged and had to go along, when she was suddenly flung into the air and hurled across the ravine –

Saphira roared in agony as he back hit against a rocky wall, her neck snapping back with the force of her momentum, and she heard a dull ring as her head smacked against the rocks. Everything went white in an instant, all sight and sound and even pain ceased to exist as Saphira was suspended in time as she slowly fell from the rockwall to the floor. She lay there in a heap, her head pounding from the force of the pain in her skull, still she could hear nothing, even as the white faded and was replaced by a world out of focus that was slowly fading away. She tried to get up, knowing that there was something there that she should be worried about, but she couldn't remember what it was… Her legs shook underneath her, hardly able to even take her weight, and she collapsed onto the ground, going completely limp.

Her world faded to darkness as unconsciousness claimed her.

* * *

Smaug stood there, panting from the exertion as he glared down at the still form of the female at his feet. It required an extreme physical effort on his part in order to dampen the rage that blazed inside of him; he wanted nothing more than to rip out her throat and leave her carcass for the birds for her insolence! The temptation was so strong that he even felt his jaws salivate and a growl erupt in his throat as he glared down at her limp form.

But as he stared, his eyes caught on those scales – such a lovely shade of blue, as if she were made from sapphires. Smaug considered himself a collector of all things precious and valuable, all treasure was his to have, and as he gazed down upon the female, he realised that she looked as if she had been carved from treasure, and seeing as she might be the last female of his species left in Middle-Earth, her rarity suddenly made her priceless.

Smaug sighed in annoyance as he knew that he couldn't even think his way out of this one. Once he had decided on something, there was nothing in the world that would change his mind. And he had decided earlier on that he would mate this female, before she had dared to strike him – the nerve of her! Oh well, Smaug thought to himself as he gazed at her smaller frame, judging her weight as he estimated the easiest way to get her back to the mountain. She hadn't been that willing whilst awake, as when Smaug had tried to herd her in the general direction of the mountain, she had fought back.

He rolled his neck as a phantom pain shivered down his throat where she had bit him. That had hurt, damn it all. It had not opened him, his scales were much tougher than that, but it had still stung. The surprise had stunned him for so long that it actually took a moment for him to register that she had attacked him. His rage at her impertinence was astounding, and he barely managed to not apply deadly force to her as they fought. Yet he had been surprised once again by her competence in battle. She had displayed great strength as well as great tactical and level-headed thinking, even when enraged as she had been. This almost gave Smaug a twisted sense of pride to think that his potential offspring might have brains and brawn from both father and mother, as well as the magnificence and beauty of both as well. Though he was concerned by the fact that the female appeared to be mute, a defect that he was not all too happy with, but would get to the bottom of when she awoke. Perhaps she had just been rude to him earlier, a fact that he was choosing to ignore lest his anger get the better of him again.

So it was decided. He would take her back to the mountain. Once there Smaug would tell her the situation and make the appropriate arrangements for them both. She would soon grow accustomed to her new life; the trouble will just be house-breaking her up until that point. And if she tried any more funny business, then Smaug would just kill her. He wasn't so desperate for the female body that he would completely loose his senses as to allow her such leniencies TWICE.

The only problem with her being unconscious however, was the fact that he now had to figure out a way to carry her.

* * *

**author's note: so I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, sorry this one took longer then before, but I've been busy with other stories, and one of my sisters turned three this week! :D **

**But please review! All comments welcome! **


	4. Decisions, Decisions

Chapter 4 – Decisions, Decisions…

* * *

The darkness began to thin as Saphira slowly came back to consciousness. Her head ached and her body felt stiff and sore, but a quick mental check and she could not discern that anything was broken or seriously wrong. With that in mind, she groaned as she tried to bring herself back into the aching world of pain. She had not even opened her eyes yet, but her other senses were overloading her with mixed messages that she couldn't process and had to sort through one at a time. She could feel cold stone beneath her, and it was oddly flat and smooth for her scales; she could hear faint drips of water hitting rock and then the breathing of a creature close by; she could smell dust, moss, mould, stale air and a deep masculine musk.

And then there was her sixth sense, which suddenly came screaming to the forefront of her mind that something wasn't right.

Why had she been unconscious? Her condition had not been so severe as to warrant a failure of her body, and she had been perfectly aware of everything within and around her. Sorting thrugh her memories, she shifted through what happened to her manually. The last thing she remembered was drinking by the ravine, sensing the presence watching her, then encountering the male dragon, their fight –

Suddenly Saphira remembered what her senses had been telling her when she awoke: heavy breathing that was not her own, masculine musk…

Saphira's eyes snapped open and she at once tried to bolt herself upright to stand, suddenly panicking as she realised what must have happened. But before she could familiarise herself with her surroundings, a force like a battering ram crashed into her shoulder and sent her hurtling back down to the ground. Saphira hissed as her mind ached from the sudden shift in gravity, but she tried to get up again –

But then she felt a vice like grip surround her throat just below her head and pushed her down, effectively pinning her.

Saphira looked up to see the bull dragon she had encountered towering above her, a smirk spreading across his lips as he looked down at her lazily. He had one of his hands wrapped around her throat, the edges of his talons digging into her scales slightly to make his point absolutely clear to her. Saphira snarled at him, her outrage tremendous as she struggled against his hold, trying to put even her full weight against him. She managed to move herself a few feet across the floor, but his grip stayed upon her neck and she did not rise even an inch off of the ground. She tried to knock him off but he was standing in front of her head, so no part of her could reach him with enough mass to push him off of her. Her struggles soon ceased as she lay there panting, her teeth bared as she seethed up at the male above her.

"Oh good," he sneered down her – Saphira was still finding it odd to watch his lips move in such a way as to produce speech. "You're awake." He said dryly.

Saphira then managed to see behind the male at get a good look at her surroundings. She was within some sort of stone hall, what smelled like a cavern was actually the inside of a building made of stone. It was huge, the vaulted ceilings stretching far up above her, the stone structure intricately carved and designed for space and grandeur. It was impressive – for what little she knew of architecture anyway. An idea suddenly came to her, so abrupt that it made her growl die in her throat. She had been unconscious, practically helpless and the male – Smaug, she remembered his name – had been ready for the kill. Yet here she was, inside of a building, which she could only presume to be his lair of some description. He had brought her here and had restrained her when she first awoke. Why would he go through all of this trouble if he was not going to kill her? Focusing her gaze back onto him, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Sensing her change in attitude, Smaug chuckled deeply to himself, his eyes meeting hers.

"Now, I'm going to let you up, and we'll see if you can behave like a good girl. If you can, then we can talk. If not, then you'll go back to the floor," he spoke with mock sweetness, and Saphira bared her teeth as she snorted, but did nothing else. "I have a proposition for you which you might like to hear; seeing as you're mute, you should have no problem _listening_." He said the last part as more of a grumble, but Saphira heard it, and it reminded her that she had yet to speak a single word to him… which could oddly work out to her advantage…

Smaug's fingers pried off of her slowly, as if to make sure that she wouldn't try anything, but he stepped away from her as she climbed to her feet. Saphira stood to her full height, puffing out her chest, narrowing her eyes and keeping her wings just a little open in a show of distrust and aggression, but not enough for battle. She wanted Smaug to know that she did not like or trust him, but she was listening. And then she turned her attention back to her body, seeing that she had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing major for her to worry about or deal with at the moment. She ruffled her wings in order to try and release the feeling of cramp that she had down one side from where she had been lying on the cold hard floor for so long. But her gaze never left Smaug's, who was looking up and down the length of her body with a seemingly critical eye, like a human weighing an object before he spent money on it. The look made her want to snarl at him, had he no respect?

"Good. Now that I have your attention," Smaug smirked to himself. "I would like to introduce you to your new home: Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, my domain. And should your good behaviour continue, you will stay here for a very long time,"

Mildly surprised that she was inside a mountain, Saphira however did not recognise any of the names that Smaug gave this place, only the confirmation that it was indeed his lair. But what she did recognise, was the fact that he had just said he planned to keep her here, as if she were some stray dog that he was taking in as a pet! Her outrage grew to beyond belief, and she growled at him, the noise deep and savage as she lowered her head and widened her stance, grinding her talons against the smooth stone floor, her eyes begging for blood as she glared at him. Smaug saw her change in demeanour, and narrowed his eyes at her, lowering his own head as he rumbled a reply growl to her, their sounds echoing around the stone chamber until it felt like an entire chorus of dragons were getting ready to declare open war upon one another.

"Careful," Smaug warned with a hiss. "I will not tolerate such insolence, even from my own treasures. You belong to me now, female, I suggest you change your attitude or suffer the consequences."

Saphira felt like something had exploded inside of her, her rage was so absolute it was as if her own fire had detonated and was now burning through her body with such an intensity she thought she would burst! Without a second thought, she threw away all notions of restraint as she pushed her mind outside of her body and raced across the space between her and Smaug as she closed in on his consciousness. He did not even see such an attack coming, for as she reached his mind, only his natural defences were in place; either he did not think her a threat or he did not know such a threat existed. It did not matter in either case, Saphira blasted apart his defences as easily as she would swatting a fly, her whole being, the furious force of her wrath was behind her, giving her extra strength as she forced her way inside Smaug's mind and instantly took root in the centre before he could even realise what was happening. But when he did, the real Smaug gasped, baring his teeth as he whipped his head about in short panic, eyes wide as he _felt_ Saphira inside of him, wrestling his very thoughts into submission as she tried to take over his mind, stinging him and striking him from the inside in every vicious, painful ways she knew.

"Wh-what are you _DOING?!_" He screeched as every muscle in his body went rigid, he forced his eyes shut as he tried to fight her from within. Saphira narrowed her eyes, the only sign that what Smaug was doing inside his own head was affecting her. She had to admit, he was now putting up a good fight, but it was clear that she had much more experience and was now deeply rooted inside of his core. "This is not _POSSIBLE_!"

'_And why is that?'_ she asked in a deadly sweet voice, curling her lip at him as she watched Smaug's eyes bulge in his head as he stared at her, clearly hearing her voice inside his own mind.

"You… you speak!" he snarled.

'_Did you honestly think I was so stupid that I could not even utter a single word?_' she growled at the insult, twisting herself inside Smaug's mind and causing him to hiss in pain.

"How are you doing this?!" Smaug bared his teeth at her, eyes blazing inside his skull as his fury grew within him as he tried to beat away her mental attacks. "Tell me!"

'_Answer MY questions first Brute!'_ Saphira snapped.

Smaug roared, the sound so loud and echoing all around them, pounding Saphira's sensitive hearing and she had to wince slightly. Suddenly, she felt something rise from within Smaug, and felt herself being physically _pushed_ from his mind like a tidal wave washing her away. She clawed and tried to hang on to her place, but was banished, her place being lost. Instantly recomposing herself, she once again tried to hack her way into his mind, but found that the deepest part of himself was sealed off, and she could find no way around it. She could get inside the more outer parts of his mind, but the seat of his being was blocked. She snarled at him in the physical realm, frustrated that he had evicted her so.

"How. Did. You. _DO THAT?!" _Smaug growled out each word, his voice rising in pitch and volume until he was screeching by the end. Saphira seethed at him, smoke curling from her nostrils as she regarded him distastefully.

'_If it is not obvious already, I communicate through the use of my mind._' Seeing as she was allowed into the outskirts of Smaug's mind, she could still communicate with him, and his look of surprise did not cease to amuse her._ 'It is as I have always been. And as you have experienced…'_ she trailed off for a second in order to show Smaug her teeth in a sadistic grin. '_It grants me quite a few telepathic abilities as well,_'

It earned her a savage growl from Smaug as he took a menacing step towards her, but Saphira did not allow him to get close, and stepped with him, the two slowly beginning to circle each other like wolves.

'_Now answer my questions, Savage,_' she snapped at him. '_Why did you bring me here?'_

"If it was not obvious already," he muttered, mockingly mimicking her word for word. "I have brought you here to be my mate,"

Saphira froze in place as the words sank in, utter shock filling her as she tried to get past the block in her thoughts from what such a thing could mean. She had once thought herself alone, she knew herself to be the last living female of her species; the only males she had ever encountered in her brief existence so far, had been males that she could not have. Shruikan had been mad, and he and Thorn had opposed her on the side of Galbatorix during the war, and Saphira thought that she and Thorn had exchanged too many blows and wounds during battle to ever be more then associates. That one's anger ran deep, and she wondered if he would ever see her with anything less than resentment. The only other dragon, Glaedr, had been her teacher when she and Eragon had lived amongst the elves, and Saphira had thought it the perfect opportunity to rebuild their race together; but he had refused her, keeping himself to the role of her master alone. Saphira had resigned herself to forever being alone, if she had been honest, she had not truly expected to find dragons anywhere, it had been a foolish hope. But to have a mate, to have hatchlings of her own… it had been her greatest dream, everything she had ever wished for. But for it to happen like this? No! Saphira was the greatest living dragon in Alagaesia, and she would not allow ANYONE to take her will from her!

_'No._' she growled.

"No?" Smaug blinked in surprise.

'_I reject your offer_,' she spat out the words at him, hate burning in her eyes.

"You really have no choice in the matter," Smaug curtly answered her, his cold gaze meeting hers.

'_How DARE you?!'_ she raged. '_You cannot decide this for me!'_ and then Saphira realised that where she had stopped, she was closest to the entrance, and without a second thought, she turned around and bound away towards the exit. Smaug roared after her, and she didn't even make three bounds of her galloping stride when she suddenly felt something crash into her back, knocking the wind from her lungs as she was pushed to the floor.

Saphira roared as she rolled onto her back, Smaug above her, baring his teeth as he lunged for her throat. Saphira managed to get one hand up, and whipped her talons through the air, causing Smaug to stop short of his strike lest he wanted to lose an eye. With her other hand, Saphira pushed at his chest, her back legs kicking and clawing at his stomach, her fangs biting at the air around his face as she tried to strike him, to push, to free herself from this situation. But then, she felt one of her hind legs catch upon the scales of his stomach, and she then used the leverage to push him off, even only slightly to the side as she tried to right herself.

But Smaug managed to grab one of her forelegs with his hand, and swung her around, throwing her back as he took up his place in front of the doorway that led to the entrance of the mountain, pushing himself to his full height as he glared down at her.

Saphira managed to roll herself onto her stomach, claws scraping on the stone and leaving long furrows where her momentum kept her travelling backwards. She snarled as she launched herself at Smaug once more, but before she could get close, he launched his coiled neck forward like a serpent, snapping at her legs and forcing her to stop. She tried to go around him one way but he snapped at her again. She tried to go around him and then to feint this way and that in an attempt to get him to move even a step, but he refused to budge even an inch. With a roar, she tried once more to go around and vault over him, but suddenly, Smaug whipped himself around and struck her with his tail. She cried out as the force hit her painfully, and Saphira was suddenly aware of how tired she was, both from where she was half starved and her injuries, and now she had been exhausting herself against Smaug. But refusing to give up, the notion of never seeing Eragon again in the forefront of her mind, she pushed herself back towards Smaug, launching herself at him again and again desperately.

Eventually though, Smaug grew tired of the 'game', and suddenly reared onto his hind legs, spreading his wings on either side of him to block up the passage and Saphira saw his chest begin to glow, a light coming from in between each scale as if he contained the sun within him. The light travelled up from his chest, up his throat and his nostrils and eyes began to glow as he inhaled a deep breath, and suddenly unleashed a torrent of flames that bathed the chamber in a red light as he poured forth the fire into the space between them. Saphira stopped herself short of the flames, for though she did not fear them, she knew when she had been defeated. Her legs were shaking from exertion, she didn't know how long she and Smaug had been at this, but it felt like an eternity.

Smaug saw when she had lost, but for once he did not gloat, instead she felt his eyes constantly upon her, judging her, gauging her, and she met his gaze fearlessly. Even as the flames died and burned themselves out between them, neither of them moved, their eyes constantly locked together.

"There is no escape. This has been pointless on your part," he commented in that deep voice, for once his emotions not distinctly present, making him harder to read.

'_I do not fear you._' She growled defiantly.

"And you need not, if you do as I say,"

'_I am not your pet!'_

"No, but you are MINE now," he growled at her dangerously.

Saphira snarled.

"I will keep you here, you shall not leave." He told her, his voice deep and seeming to send a shiver through Saphira as if he were speaking the Ancient Language itself. "But I will provide for you and care for you, as any mate of worth would. You should be honoured to be my chosen mate, my accomplishments have made me very desirable for females. I am strong, the greatest dragon of the age, all fear me, and none resist me. You will do well with me."

'_But why keep me if I refuse you?!_' she demanded.

"Let it not be said that I give up easily; if I want something, I do everything in my power to have it, and once I do, I NEVER release it." he said with almost an amused smirk as he cast his eye about the chamber they were standing in, as if he knew something that she didn't. "But do not be fooled into thinking that I will be very forgiving, blue-one." He growled as he took a menacing step towards her. "I have been lenient with this behaviour so far due to your ignorance of the situation. But now that you are fully informed, I will not tolerate this anymore. Should you continue with this any further, I will not hesitate to _KILL _you for such grievances. Let that be your only warning."

Saphira wanted to argue, to refuse, to say that she was not going to simply lie down and take this like a mongrel dog! She could not believe that she wasn't even trying to fight him now, her spirit refused to be caged in this way; she was a dragon, she should be free to do as she pleased! But then again, Saphira knew when something was not good for her health, and at the moment, she was weak, exhausted, hungry and ready to drop. And here was a male who was ready to either help her recover or he would kill her. And although she knew she would put up a good fight and probably give him a few more scars, in her current state, she couldn't best him. But she wouldn't stand for this forever. No. All she needed to do was be patient, like when on the hunt and waiting for the prey to get into the perfect position, she would bide her time, save her strength, strike when she was strongest and make her escape.

So, with a slow exhale, she abandoned her hostile posture, stopped the growl in her throat, closed her mouth, and looked away from Smaug in order to show that she had given in. In wounded her pride to do so, but she swallowed it back for the sake of survival at this moment in time. Smaug sensed her withdrawal, and seemed to approve of her decision as he grumbled contentedly at her.

"Very good," he murmured, and began to walk past her, the edge of his wing brushing along her side, and Saphira had to snap every muscle in her body as taught as a bow string in order to not snap at him. "And by the way," Smaug's voice said, and Saphira turned her head in order to view him coldly out of the corner of her eye. "You are now know my name, but I do not seem to be familiar with yours…"

_'I am Saphira.'_ She said coldly, but still with some pride as she held her head a little higher, her neck arched regally. '_Also known as Bjartskular amongst the elves, Flametongue by the Urgals, and Brightscales by men,'_

Smaug's brows rose a little, the only show of his surprise, and Saphira felt her pride inflate a little.

"Well, Saphira," Smaug said, and Saphria tried to ignore the way she like how her name sounded when spoken with his deep voice, it made her sound formidable yet beautiful, intriguing yet exotic. But she stubbornly pushed such thoughts away. "Come with me, you should now get yourself acquainted with your new home,"

Saphira tried to supress a growl as her lip curled at Smaug's back, but she stiffly began to follow him, knowing that trying to run whilst his back was turned was pointless and would only result in injury or possibly even death. So she quietly followed him as he led her through the long and dark tunnels deep into the depths of Erebor.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** **Hello everyone! Sorry for the shorter chapter, but I felt that this was at a good place to leave this one! :) And thank you for all the wonderful comments, I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying this story so far! **

**And please review! Please tell me what you thought of: Saphira waking up in the Mountain? Smaug's proposition? Saphira's mental attack? Their first actual conversation? Their little scuffle? And Saphira's final decision... if you can really call it that? **

**See you guys in the next chapter! Until next time! **


	5. Pride Goes Before A Fall

Chapter 5 – Pride Goes Before A Fall

* * *

Eragon exited the chamber from where he and the other members of the council had just been discussing the state of the Empire and who should rule it. Since Galbatorix's defeat, they had been trying their hardest to put the Capital City of Urû'baen back together and make some semblance of order from the chaotic events of the final battle that had decided the war.

The battle that had torn Eragon's world apart.

Eragon quickly made his way through the streets of the city, his heart aching painfully as he thought of his beloved dragon, and how she had been torn from him so suddenly. When he and Saphira had discovered that the bond they shared had been severed, Eragon had been just as upset as Saphira had been, but he still retained some hope that their bond had been strong enough to guide them through this. He had gone after her, determined to comfort her, sure in the knowledge that even without a mental connection to her she still loved him just as he loved her, she was the other half of him now, and without her he felt lost. But then, she had turned on him, attacked him, though when she had seen his face, Eragon was sure that she hadn't known who he was, for the guilt and anguish that she displayed was all too real in her eyes. But then she had left before he could comfort her, fleeing to a place where he could not follow, and now had no way of finding her.

He had run to the elves and told them of what had transpired, and they and many soldiers sent by Nasuada had tried their best to find Saphira in the days that followed, but no one reported to have spotted any sign of her. She was gone.

Eragon had tried to distract himself with any job or duty he could, working from the early hours of the morning until late at night, until he literally collapsed from exhaustion. It was just a way to distract his mind so that he wouldn't break at any moment from the emotional storm that raged inside of him. He was sure that once Saphira had calmed down, she would return and be as determined as he was into fixing this.

But he was haunted by her eyes, that look of utter misery and fear that plagued his imagination with every waking hour. And as the days passed, and still Saphira did not return, his being had sunk even deeper into his throws of sorrow.

Brom had once told Eragon, that losing a dragon, a partner of your heart and mind, after suffering such a loss life was hardly worth living. And Eragon truly felt as if he wanted to die, for losing someone that had been a part of his very soul for so long, someone who had dominated the last year or more of his life with her unexpected arrival in his little farm house all those nights ago… to suddenly not have her, was a punishment he didn't think he could bare. But he held strong, the only thing keeping him together now was the hope that Saphira would come back to him eventually.

Back in the present, he soon found himself on top of the ramparts, sitting upon the wall that guarded the city, looking out over the plains beyond and watching the skies. He searched the clouds tirelessly, hoping beyond hope that he would see a familiar sparkle in the sky, hear a comforting voice in his head. But none of it came.

He sat there for what seemed like hours, until he eventually felt the presence of another close by, and casting out his mind, he only had to feel her aura to know that it was her. Arya stood a few feet behind him, silent as she respected his need for peace, though she knew when he sensed her, for she stepped forward.

"Eragon…" she murmured softly, her lilting voice oddly comforting despite how many times he had heard it cold and formal. It still sent shivers down his spine and a longing in his heart either way.

"Arya," Eragon said softly by way of greeting, though he did not turn to face her, his heavy heart keeping him seated as he stared out at the horizon. "Forgive me, but I am not myself tonight,"

"You have not been yourself these few weeks," she said and he felt the breeze of her as she came closer though he never heard her footsteps. "I can only imagine the loss of which you feel…"

"It is unbearable…" he murmured. "No wonder Galbatorix went mad when he lost his first dragon… I can barely hold myself together anymore…"

He then felt a comforting hand upon his shoulder, and he almost burst into tears from the simple gesture, his body going stiff with the force to contain his grief.

"I came bearing some new to hope to lift your heart somewhat…" Arya told him softly, like a mother to frightened child. "Sailors near Surda have reported to seeing Saphira flying west across the ocean,"

"What?!" Eragon breathed, unable to contain himself as he spun around to look at the beautiful elf before him, her long dark hair shaping her beautiful face. "Is this true?"

"I can only tell you what I have heard. Whether it be true or not, you will have to discover for yourself," she murmured as she reached out to place her hand upon his shoulder again, giving it a firm squeeze. The humane, un-elf-like gesture, touched Eragon in a way he had never considered such a simple act could. "You'll find her again," Arya whispered. "I know it,"

Eragon looked out towards the horizon once again, his heart aching, even as a determination came over his mind. He would find Saphira again, he swore it by the Ancient Language. He could only pray to whatever gods or spirits existed, that she was well and safe; wherever she was.

* * *

They walked through the many halls of Erebor, Saphira following her captor as he led her through the huge passages that had either been built or smashed to make big enough holes to accommodate them. Further down they went, past grand halls and expanses of space carved from the very rock of the mountain into smooth halls and exquisitely carved walls and floors. Saphira did her best to memorise their route, which was rather direct the further down they went, more in a straight line and climbing over bridges over canyons. Saphira could scent the dampness of the underground world and also a very old musk, barely detectable, but still unmistakably that of dwarf. The odour only became stronger as they went further and further from the light, and Saphira felt a sense of longing arise within her as she glanced over her shoulder at the world she was leaving behind. For now, the day, the light, the warmth, the very sky and air were denied to her, at least until she could deal with her "host" and get out of here.

Speaking of which, Saphira was still cautious of him as she followed him at a safe distance, though her tongue could still taste her bitterness towards him. He had taken her very will from her, her freedom, and had treated her to far less then she deserved, and for that she hated him, and nothing would please her more then to snap his neck and leave him to rot and be forgotten down in this endless pit. But she could not, she was still exhausted and hungry, and she would only get herself killed. Better to be the patient hunter now and grab the kill when it was unawares…

But she was curious about him as well, being the first wild dragon she had ever encountered. She remembered that Glaedr had once told her that wild dragons were much different from bonded dragons: the wild ones answered to no one and no thing, taking whatever they pleased, living however and wherever they pleased and bore no thought of kindness for aught but their kith and kin. Fierce and proud were the wild dragons, even arrogant. If that didn't describe Smaug to the last ounce, Saphira thought, then nothing would. Saphira wanted to growl savagely as she thought that Smaug had taken her as he had so pleased, as if she were a thing. And considering that she was technically wild now due to the fact that she was no longer bound, she wished she had the strength to show him her own fierceness. But Saphira had to beat down her want for battle – yet again. Eragon had once noticed her love of fighting, and she had felt his concern for her. She agreed now that she would have to temper that if she was to survive.

After some time, they finally seemed close to their destination, as Saphira noticed that Smaug's tail began to twitch ever so slightly with agitation, the barest warnings of aggression in his stance as they came close to a tall door that could easily fit Smaug's great height and width. Smaug looked over his shoulder at her, his lip curling slightly to reveal his teeth as his eyes narrowed in a warning. Saphira looked at him with a bored expression, snorting softly to show how unimpressed she was by his display. She came forward until she was standing beside him and looked onto the chamber that lay sprawled out before her.

Her breath caught slightly in her throat as she gazed upon the sight that she had previously been unprepared for. Before her, a gigantic chamber opened up, so large that she could only faintly see the walls in the deep shadows at the edges, and the cavernous ceilings reaching far above so that even Shruikan would have been able to stand comfortably in this space. Great thick pillars were in rows to hold up the ceiling, but perhaps fifty feet between each one. But what lay upon the ground was the greatest amount of wealth Saphira had ever seen. Heaps of golden coins, jewels of emerald, sapphires, diamonds and rubies, great objects made from precious metals all littered the floor as if they were grains of sand upon a beach, until they all became a great mass of golden light. Lesser minds would have been instantly taken by the wealth that was laid out before her, and yes, Saphira did see the value and she could even appreciate how pretty it all looked. But what caught her attention, was the way the gold shone and sparkled… it was almost like the way Glaedr's scales used to shimmer in an evening's light. Saphira had to hold back her whimper of grief, remembering as she had witnessed Glaedr's murder through his heart-of-hearts. No, Saphira did not see the treasure that would send other minds into a form of sickness, all she could see was a reminder of the great mentor and friend that she had lost.

But her thoughts were brought back to the present, when she felt Smaug's eyes upon her, watching her, a soft growl rumbling through his chest; he was testing her, waiting to see what she would do. Knowing that whatever this meant to him, she had to be careful, Saphira's eyes traced along the edges of the chamber, until she spied a stone platform above her that came out of the wall and had its own set of stairs leading to the heaps of gold. Perhaps it had once been an observation deck. Either way, Saphira judged that it would fit her purposes. The gold smelled too much of Smaug, and she could guess that he spent a lot of time with it, for whatever reason that would be, and so she didn't want to be anywhere near him right now. With a casual dismissive flick of her tail, Saphira turned away from Smaug and leapt into the air as she glided lazily to the platform and settled upon it, curling around herself, noting with satisfaction that there was no room for anyone else to fit upon her perch.

"What are you doing?" she heard Smaug growl with annoyance, and she opened one eye to look at him lazily.

'_Is it not obvious?'_ she stated dully, and had to fight her smirk of satisfaction as she saw his face twitch uncomfortably at having to hear her voice in his head, even when her lips did not move. If she couldn't fight him physically, she planned to make his life a misery for doing this to her. '_This is your den; I'm tired, so I chose a place to sleep.'_

"Up there?" he smirked as if she were a foolish child. Saphira uncoiled her neck to lean her face off of the platform, curling her lip to reveal her teeth as she growled at him warningly.

'_Forgive me if I'm not exactly full with a warm welcome at this moment in time…'_ she felt the flames rise in the back of her throat, though she kept her jaws firmly clamped shut.

"Everything you see before you," Smaug said smugly, gesturing to the grand treasure hoard with a sweep of his wing. "Every last coin, jewel and cup, is mine. The greatest treasure in all of Middle-Earth, and it is mine. And now, you are a part of it,"

Saphira merely snarled at him before turning her back on him, shooting a jet of blue flame at the wall in front of her as she grumpily curled up on the floor.

"This is your new home, and you do not seem impressed," she heard Smaug's irritated tone, and growled as she wanted him to just give her a moment's worth of peace.

'_I'm sure many a common beast would be dazzled by this __**magnificent**__ prison,'_ she spat over her shoulder, not even bothering to grace him with her full attention, allowing the insult to sting further. '_But your __**trinkets**__ are of little value to me,'_

"What foolishness is this?!" Smaug hissed angrily.

'_Not foolishness,'_ she corrected icily. '_I simply do not care,'_

"All dragons were in envy of the wealth I possess!" he snarled, clearly becoming more enraged by her dismissiveness. "Surely even if you were simple minded, your vanity would be stoked by such pretty things… as all females tend to feel," he added the last part under his breath, and although Saphira heard it, she tried her hardest to ignore it, even though her talons gouged the stone beneath her in her anger.

'_You mistake me.'_ she replied in as even and dull a voice as she could manage. '_You hold much wealth: the collected weight of the gold alone down there is a material value the likes of which I have never seen. And although it is all rather beautiful, it is in fact… useless.'_

"What?!" Smaug thundered in outrage.

'_Meat has a purpose to fill my belly, water to sate my thirst, the wind to lift my wings, the sun to give me life, and the moon to give me rest, even this mountain holds a purpose to give me shelter. But coins fashioned from precious metals… the only use I can see of it would be to compare it to my own scales.'_ She said, a hint of contempt melting into her voice. '_And I already know my scales to be far grander than any __**coin**__… I do not need a reminder.'_

She heard Smaug snort at her disdainfully, perhaps still thinking her to be foolish, for to one such as him her words of wisdom would only be considered as naivety. But she cared not for what he thought. She heard him then as his weight was absorbed by the metallic rushing sound of coins clinking together as he sunk into his hoard. Saphira shook her head, for if one of them was to be foolish then it would be him if he loved that heap of gold so much; for he could not move it all should he wish to relocate or retreat if threatened, and with such a tie that granted no obvious privilege other than the envy of others, many would wish to take it from him. It could be the death of him. Were all wild dragons like this? The two-legged Ajihad had once told Eragon that wild dragons used to steal the treasure of dwarves. Well, perhaps here was her proof, for the mountain was riddled with the old smell of dwarf, it was faint, hardly there from long absence, but still detectable.

But thinking of other wild ones made Saphira pause as she suddenly thought over what Smaug had said not a few minutes ago. All dragons were in envy of him… were… past tense… did that mean -?!

'_Smaug,'_ Saphira snapped out suddenly into his mind. Her only response was an annoyed grumble coming from within the piles of gold. '_You said that dragons __**were**__ envious of your treasure… but they are not now?'_ she asked, a hint of caution entering her heart as she begged whatever fates watched over her that the answer she dreaded was not coming. She heard the coins chink and chime, and risked a glance to see Smaug's head emerge from the gold from where he had completely buried himself within it, he did not open his eyes, only talked lazily at her from the ground, though she knew he was watching her.

"All dragons would have killed to possess my treasure. And they still would… if there were any left," he said in a dark tone.

'_They're… they're all gone?'_ Saphira whispered, a sense of horror dawning upon her soul as she realised the gravity of her situation.

"I am the greatest dragon of the age," Smaug half boasted, though his tone slipped slightly into a form of lament when he next spoke. "But also one of the last. There are undoubtedly a few lesser drakes skulking in the shadows **somewhere**… but there are no more of the Great Fire Drakes. They are gone. All except for you and I."

Saphira felt her throat tighten in an unfamiliar way, a sense of loss coming over her as well as self-anger. She had been foolish to think that there were others. Foolish and naïve and stupid to believe the false hope that such a thing could be real: Wild dragons living in a far off land? She could almost snarl at herself for such a thought! And now, because of her desperation, she had placed herself into a trap and into a situation that would have been completely avoided if she had but kept her calm and collected head.

For some reason, she felt her anger towards Smaug diminish but her hate grow, it was almost enough for her to throw her sense of self-preservation to the wind and attack him right now in an attempt to slay him. But she didn't, for as it was she only had a slim chance of seeing Eragon again in her current situation, attacking would reduce it to an impossibility.

So she then turned her back on Smaug – who had been eyeing her as he sensed the sudden emotional turmoil within her – and proceeded to ignore him.

* * *

Smaug's newest treasure was quite the proud little beast. He expected nothing less from a dragon, but it was rather bothersome on his patience.

For the first day or so, she spent her time upon her little perch above and away from him, refusing to even acknowledge him as she turned her back on him and pretended to doze. Smaug was almost relieved that she was not taken with his treasure as any other dragon would be. Upon seeing his enormous wealth, she should have either cuddled up to him for his affections or fought him for the right to possess it. The fact that she did neither both baffled and interested him. She was unlike any other dragoness that he had encountered before. Although her vanity and pride were still the same as any of the opposite sex.

She refused to look at him, or even speak to him, though he was somewhat grateful for her silence, as hearing that melodious yet fierce voice inside of his own head was rather unsettling to him. But he knew she was hungry, he could tell by the way she seemed a little undernourished, and so knew that he must provide for her as any decent mate should, and also it might get her to be more cooperative. But he didn't trust her enough to leave her alone for too long, and so instead of making his way outside the mountain, he had gone down to the caverns below, far into the dark where the sounds throughout the mountain echoed down, so he could always hear her, and also he was literally only a few minutes from the treasure chamber if he ran at full speed. Into the dark caverns he went, where the dwarves had once mined for the gold and jewels that now adorned Smaug's bed of treasure. In the dark, he found all manner of foul creatures that had crept up to live in the caves due to the fact that the dwarves had not been there to chase them out due to Smaug's presence, and Smaug himself had never before bothered with the dark pits down here, being more focused on the treasure in the levels above. But now, he made easy pickings of the blind creatures of the dark that were powerless against him; huge insects and grotesque looking worms the size of farm horses. He simply picked one quickly and brought it back to the treasure room.

As he entered the chamber, he saw that his female was half crouched, as if she had been in the process of rising from her platform when he had entered. But upon seeing him, she scowled and turned away from him with a soft growl in her chest as she put her back to him with a dismissive flick of her tail. Smaug growled to himself at her behaviour, but tried to hold his patience with the promise that she would break… eventually. So he tossed her up the meat, the carcass falling with a loud 'SPLAT' sound beside her. She had sniffed it cautiously, and he could see the hunger in her eyes, though she had kicked it away and lay back down.

_Stubborn female,_ he had thought to himself bitterly as he had stalked away.

This happened for the whole of the next day, and the day after that. Smaug's patience was soon coming to a very swift end.

But, he knew that food was not the only way to get into a female's affections. Her hunger she could deny out of pride, but her instincts were far harder to ignore.

It had been a few centuries since Smaug had properly courted a female to win her affections. Back in his days living in the Withered Heath, due to his size, strength, prowess and great feats to earn his name as the dragon dread, it had been all too easy to simply pick whichever female he wanted to mate with and she would fawn over the honour and do her best to please him. That was what Smaug liked, he remembered with a wicked grin. But the other rituals were for when a male was building trust with the female, earning her affection, making her see him as a worthy mate, it was for when the pair were strangers or knew nothing about one another, or just because some did not trust to gossip and rumours about the feats of others. These rituals of dominance displays, preening, grooming and affiliation were for when the pair were trying to establish if they would make a good match and what their dynamic would be; it was a proposal of sorts. But Smaug had already established that he and this female, Saphira – he had to admit he liked the sound of her name on his tongue, fierce yet beautiful – were already mates and that he was the dominant of the pair. Surely he should not have to go through the rituals with her if that was already done.

With this train of thought, Smaug had watched his female, until he saw her rouse herself from her constant dozing, in order to groom herself, uncurling from her sleeping pose, stretching her body out and unfurling one of her wings to lick at the feathers. Her tail was still apart from the occasional twitch at the end in order to signal her boredom but slight agitation. She groomed herself until her scales sparkled with more vibrancy then any of the sapphires at Smaug's feet. He had to smirk to himself as he was reminded of one of the reasons he had taken this female, for her beauty, grace and elegance were utterly undeniable. But realising that this was probably his best opportunity, Smaug had smugly walked up to the stairs of the platform, climbing up to her level, though he was so large that the end of his tail was still at the bottom of the short flight of stairs as he came level with the platform. As his shadow fell over her, Saphira had gone still, her eyes narrowing at him as she growled a very slight warning, before turning her back to him as she licked a foreleg, cleaning her talons as she seemed to be ignoring him.

But Smaug wondered if she was merely playing with him; was this whole act a test in order to see and judge his commitment? The only reason he could think this, was because when she had given her back to him, laying on the floor before him, she had offered him a very… _inviting_ picture.

Smaug's own instincts were very hard to ignore in that moment as the blood rushed through his veins with heat. And he quickly placed his jaws at the back of her neck, feeling the tough scales beneath his teeth, even as Saphira snarled in surprise, wriggling slightly as she tried to dislodge him. But Smaug ignored her, believing that she must be one of those females who had to be conquered before she submitted, perhaps this was what all of this was: a lure to get him to mate her so that she would know the kind of male that he was. Well, he thought darkly, he certainly wouldn't disappoint her in that regard. He placed his forelegs on either side, in-line with her shoulders, nudging aside her tail with his thigh, he lowered himself towards –

A roar exploded from Saphira's jaws as before Smaug could make contact, she pulled away from him, whirling around so that her tail smashed into his left leg, unbalancing him as he winced against the slight pain of his knee protesting where the force of her blow had smacked into the joint. She wriggled from of his grasp and spun around to face him, rearing unto her hind legs as she swiped at his face with her talons, her knuckles catching him unawares in his moment of surprise. He reared away from her, snarling as he shook his head from the blow. Saphira stamped her front feet back onto the ground, and unleashed a torrent of blue flame upon him. Smaug was driven back by the burning light that did not wound him but still caused him great discomfort. Saphira drove him back until he was back at the bottom of the stairs, only then did she extinguish the flames in her throat, standing at the top of the stairs, glaring down at him with hate filled enraged eyes.

'_HOW DARE YOU?!'_ She almost screamed inside of his head, causing Smaug's eye to twitch from the slight pain. '_What do you think you were doing?!'_

"You are mine, my dear, we are mates." He snapped irritably. "I was merely fulfilling my duty in that regard,"

'_You simple minded, arrogant, beastly brute!'_ she shrieked, sides heaving with the effort of containing her rage, and Smaug could even see the light at the back of her throat where she threatened to unleash her blue flames again. '_You may keep me here for a thousand years, but I will never just mate you as if I were your breeding-mare! You will need to __**EARN**__ that right!'_

"You **dare** refuse me?!" he asked in a dangerously low voice.

"_I choose who I mate with. No-one else!"_

"I'm afraid you have little choice in the matter," he commented dryly. But it was true, for even if she were to escape him, there were no others of their breed to mate with, as he had already explained to her.

'_You cannot take my freedom from me, for I am a dragon, the freest of all creatures.'_ A part of her seemed to deflate suddenly, and she seemed to be weary, weak, as she looked at him with a suddenly tired expression, her tail falling limp onto the ground, her wings slouching against her sides.'_Surely even you can understand that, being a dragon yourself,'_ she said in a much softer tone.

"I am Smaug," he snapped, avoiding her seemingly accusing eyes. "I do as I please, kill where I wish, and none dare defy me. You will be no different."

'_A dragon who is not free to do as he or she pleases, is no dragon at all…'_ he heard her whisper inside his mind, before she turned her back on him and almost collapsed as she lay back down, either from emotional or physical exhaustion, Smaug was unsure.

Smaug was left standing there, glaring at her back, and even if he wanted to ignore her, her words still echoed in his mind, refusing to leave.

So in an attempt to distract himself, he had looked at her body, and realised that her state did not please him, for she should not be so drained from such little exertion. She must be much hungrier then he thought. He carefully picked his way to the pile of treasure beneath the platform and picked up one of the carcasses that she had rejected and kicked to the ground. Smaug had to bite back his pride as he carried the carcass up to the platform and deposited it by Saphira. If he HAD to go through with all the silly ceremonies in order to woo her, then he should start from the beginning: Males would give to females that they desired an offering of food.

Saphira looked round to look at the carcass, before glaring up at him.

'_I want nothing from you,_' she spat icily.

"Do not let your pride be the death of you," he snapped. "I will not let you leave to hunt, I am not so foolish as that. But by denying food, your body weakens, though should you eat, only your pride will be hurt. I will not have my things go to waste." He then turned away from her and proceeded to slink back into his beloved treasure, burying himself within until only his head was sticking out. From there, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Saphira sat there glaring at the carcass of meat beside her. She sat there simply staring at it with such anger that Smaug thought that she would refuse him just out of spite. For a long time she sat there, for what seemed like an eternity, before finally, she grabbed the carcass with her jaws and viciously began to rip it apart as she ate. Smaug gathered that her ferocious table manners were in part to her hunger but also to her anger, as if she were begrudgingly doing this because even she could see the wisdom in his words.

But Smaug was rather pleased when he saw that after she finished her meal, eating everything but the a few pieces of hard outer-shell from the giant insect's hide, she quickly reached down with her long and graceful neck to snap up the other carcasses that she had turned aside for the past two days.

Smaug kept his smirk to himself, as he revelled silently in his victory. Now he just had to play by the other rituals with the same tact of patience and undeniable truth, and she would soon be in the grasp of his claws.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello my lovely patient readers! I am so sorry this is late, but I was on holiday in Turkey for the past two weeks and was thousands of miles away from my poor laptop. And for the past two days since I've been home I have been working tirelessly in order to give you guys this, so I hope you like it! :)**

**Please don't forget to review and tell me what you think!**


	6. Similarities

Chapter 6 – Similarities

* * *

Eating the strangest creatures that Smaug could drag up from the depths of the mountain, Saphira was slowly regaining her strength, bringing herself back to full health. When all she did all day was doze on her perch, groom herself to keep herself in top shape, and eat whatever Smaug brought her, it only took about three days for Saphira to get back to full strength. But she thought she would soon die of BOREDOM. Smaug tried to talk with her and at least be civil with her, but she was still incredibly bitter with him, and honestly didn't find a single thing in common with him, she didn't want to give him the time of day, but when she tried to ignore him, he threw a tantrum and began to smash a column or two and breathe fire in his rage. It just made Saphira's life easier to just speak in blunt and snappy answers, he soon gave up and did his usual laziness.

But still Saphira felt a restlessness in her bones that she couldn't quite disperse, and it was slowly driving her mad. She wanted to fly, to hunt, but both were impossible seeing as Smaug wouldn't let her leave the mountain. The only other option to sate her restlessness, was to fight. Saphira loved to fight, and if she could fight her captor then she would have been more than happy. But alas, common sense was not in agreement with that thought.

So, one morning, in an attempt to quell her restless mind, she had wondered if she could contact Glaedr or even any of the other Eldunari from the Vault of Souls. They may have all been dead and their bodies reduced to dust, but their minds had been placed in that of their heart-of-hearts, and so could be contacted via a mental link. Saphira spent the best part of a morning reaching out with her mind, stretching as far as she could, passing the minds of many dumb animals and even those of humans and some bands of dwarves. But she only made it until the ocean, when her mind was seemingly crying out from the pain of stretching herself so, her physical body was shaking and she felt as if she would snap. With a snarl of frustration and pain, she gave up and withdrew back into her mind. Sulking now as she felt the sting of her failure, realising what she should have known; that any help she sought was very far away.

She only then became aware of Smaug picking his claws through a certain mound of his vast treasure, looking through a particular spot, as if he was looking for something very specific. With a single long talon of one of his two fingers, he flicked aside jewels, coins, cups and trinkets as he searched and searched. Finally, with a self-satisfied sigh, Smaug retrieved a belt that Saphira supposed once belonged to a very large and round mortal, and he turned to find her watching him; a smug smirk spreading across his muzzle as he locked eye with her. Saphira snorted at him, lifting her head and arching her neck to look down on him with disdain. Holding the belt in the claws of one hand, Smaug made his way towards her, climbing the wide steps to her perch until he was at the top but not on her level. Saphira turned to face him, seemingly relaxed and unbothered by him as she peered down her nose at him, though her tail was curled around her talons and the muscles in her legs were ready encase he tried something like last time. But instead, Smaug just looked at her, his bright eyes roaming her body as he took in every scale, ever feather, drinking in her beauty. Saphira felt her pride swell slightly, even though her irritation and caution only grew.

'_Is there something you need?_' she snapped at him impatiently.

"In all my years," Smaug purred, and it was not a pleasant sound. "I have never encountered a dragon who was not immediately taken by the mere thought of treasure. Do you tell me, Saphira, truly: you do not find even a single coin to be utterly dazzling?" he gestured out to his hoard with a flick of a finger.

'_I have told you before.'_ She grumbled in his mind. '_Your trinkets are pretty, but have no practical use,_'

"I can find one," he murmured, eyeing her. Saphira raised a scaly brow at him as she regarded him with one eye, curious but also growing suspicious.

_'Oh? And what would that be?_'

"To accentuate your beauty," he said simply.

Saphira was so taken aback by this sudden statement that she had to blink in surprise and was momentarily speechless.

"_Saphira_…" Smaug tested out her name as if it were a rich taste upon his tongue, and Saphira was unsure of what to make of the shiver that ran down her spine. "It is a name befitting of one who is made of the brightest sapphires, and yet as ferocious as a fire storm. Despite the fact that you can very difficult on my patience, I cannot help but marvel at the sight that you are. I have never encountered a female of your splendour or fierceness."

'_In Alagaesia, I am the most beautiful of all creatures, dragon or no,'_ Saphira said proudly, allowing him to play to her vanity as she felt her back straighten and she lifted her head regally. Though she still looked at him with open suspicion, for what was the point to all this flattery?

"I have never flown so far to a land such as that. Is that where you have come from?" he asked, actual interest brightening his eyes.

'_Yes,_' she replied. '_It lies far away, and beyond the reach of most. Yet I flew across the ocean until I found myself here,_' Saphira dared not say more about her homeland, for she did not know what a dragon like Smaug would do with that information in the future.

"Then surely one as beautiful and powerful as my mate, should be adorned with nothing but the greatest jewels in all the world. If only for all to see how such treasures pale in comparison to your lovely scales," he then held out to her the belt, and Saphira managed to get a good look at it: it was a large creation, made of gold metal links studded with diamonds that sparkled and in the centre was one very large sapphire.

'_What is it?_' she asked with narrowed eyes.

"A gift. If you will allow it." he said simply.

Saphira studied the contraption, unable to take her eyes off of the sapphire, Smaug's words seeping into her mind and repeating inside her head, whispering to her as she stared at the gem that matched her own scales. Was Smaug correct? Should she wear such things in order to show off her beauty? She knew that mortals found gems to be the most beautiful thing of all; when she wore it, would they see how inferior such a lifeless object was when compared with her magnificence? It was an intriguing thought to say the least. Looking up to meet Smaug's eyes once again, she found that he was oddly unreadable, his eyes locking with hers in a pitiless stare. His mind was closed off to her, so she could not read his thoughts on what his plan was. But her interest was now piqued, and so she nodded to him, and leant her head forward, offering him the back of her neck.

She heard a satisfied noise escape Smaug, and she gave a low growl of warning. She then felt the cool touch of the belt around her neck as Smaug slipped around the thinnest part. His claws worked with surprising dexterity and swiftness as he clipped the belt into place and not a moment had passed and he was done. Saphira lifted her head, feeling the odd weight of the belt pressing against her throat, not uncomfortably, but enough to keep it in place. It was odd to feel, and not something she could ignore, for it staid tight on her neck, like a "chocker" necklace she had seen Nusuada wear before. She couldn't bend in the right way in order to see it, but from the look in Smaug's eye… her pride felt another swell as he gazed upon her greedily.

"As I suspected," he murmured. "The beauty of treasure is only marred by the beauty of dragons,"

'_But I cannot see it,'_ Saphira pointed out.

"Then come, and I shall show you," he commanded, and turned from her in order to walk back across his hoard. Saphira watched him for a moment, a battle waging inside of herself as caution warred with curiosity. But unable to deny herself, she carefully began to descend the stairs and follow after Saphira across the heaps and piles of treasure that shifted and sank beneath her like dunes of sand in the Hadarac Desert. They made their way across the vast room, Smaug seeming to know exactly where he was going. As they moved, Saphira cast her eye over the many treasures at her feet, a new appreciation forming in her mind as Smaug's words continued to haunt her, and she looked on strings of pearls and jewels of rubies and emeralds with ideas on how they could help to enhance her own magnificent beauty… even if such thoughts quietly made her uneasy.

Finally, they seemed to reach their destination, as Smaug suddenly plucked up what appeared to be a golden disk as tall as three two-legs, inscription written into the outer edges, a shine to it that reflected the world perfectly. Saphira raised a scaly eyebrow at Smaug doubtfully.

'_And what is so important about this one?_' she asked him.

"This holds the greatest shine than any other, and will give you a perfect reflection," he told her as if a simpleton should know this. Saphira had to restrain her growl in response.

'_And you know that, how? What makes this one any different from the others?_'

"A dragon with any pride must know his treasure down to the last ounce. I will know if even a single coin is missing from its place." Smaug told with a smug smirk. He then held up the large golden disk in his talons and presented it to her until her face was reflected back to herself.

Saphira inspected her own image, and was rather surprised to find her own beautiful face, her long elegant neck, was as it should be. But below her head, at the thinnest part of her throat, was the belt that looked like a choker necklace. The diamonds sparkled with an almost magical gleam, causing her own scales to glitter as they reflected the light; the sapphire in the centre matched her eyes and scales, drawing the attention of the eye. And Saphira had to admit, even if only for second to herself, that she could see the appeal that Smaug had for such treasures, for he was right, it did show off her beauty rather expertly, and Saphira even found herself thinking of trying those strings pearls to decorate around her horns perhaps. She could imagine she would be the envy of all those who laid eyes on her, and there was enough pretty little things in this vast treasure hoard to make her a living jewel…

She frowned slightly as she looked upon her reflection again, disturbed by her sudden thoughts. Saphira had never desired treasures before, for they had no purpose during a war; how fast had that sudden burst of greed taken hold of her that she had contemplated having all the jewels in this Mountain, and what price would she have paid for them had such madness continued within her. Glaring at her reflection, Saphira couldn't help but suddenly look at the belt… and compare it to a dog's collar.

In one fast movement, she seized the belt in her talons and wrenched it apart, breaking it easily as the golden links snapped from one another and the jewels fell to the ground. Instantly, Smaug's eyes widened as a strangled roar of outrage erupted from him, and he leapt for the gold that fell from her throat, fury in his eyes at what she had done. But Saphira was already retreating away from him, making sure he knew that she had no interest in his "offerings". But she only made it a few dozen steps before Smaug's voice cut across to her.

"Are you mad?!" he snarled.

'_You cannot buy my affection with pretty baubles,_' Saphira muttered stiffly, only turning her head slightly to show him her teeth.

"You're trying my patience Saphira with this ignorant stubbornness! Are you imbecilic or simply incompetent?!" his voice echoed around the chamber angrily, cutting to Saphira and her own temper.

'_What is that supposed to mean?!'_ she turned to face him, eyes blazing as she settled into an aggressive pose, even as Smaug stood straight and tall in a dominating fashion.

"Do you or do you not know the mating rites?" he demanded icily. Saphira hesitated for only a moment, but that was enough as Smaug snorted, his eyes narrowing to look down his nose at her as if she were a simpleton. "A male will offer a piece of treasure to a desired mate, showing her a piece of the wealth she might receive should she chose him." He snorted in her face derisively. "I thought you had not been mated before, but I had suspected that it was due to your insufferable stubbornness. Do you mean to tell me that you have not even been courted before?"

'_Of course not,'_ Saphira snapped, stung by his words to the point where she felt utterly furious, shaking in place as she struggled to contain her emotions at the sore spot that Smaug was unintentionally (or possibly intentionally) provoking. She suddenly felt an odd need to explain herself, and so rushed ahead: '_Where I have come from, I was born the last female of my kind. I had no mother to teach me, I did not even meet a dragon until I was mature. And besides, I was surrounded by males who didn't exactly have the time to court me,_' she muttered the last part rather bitterly.

A sound filled the air, and it took Saphira a moment to realise that it was Smaug's laughter, he was chuckling to himself. It only fuelled Saphira's anger as she growled at him savagely, baring her teeth.

"I thought that was a joke," Smaug explained as his mirth dried up and he gave her a hard look. "I find it quite improbable that any male would not want you. You are young, capable, a fierce warrior, a beauty, seemingly of good breeding, and powerful. I was actually surprised that you did not even hold a single mating scar, new or faded."

'_Then what of you?! I am to assume that you have mated before?'_ she asked hotly, turning the conversation quickly back to him as she felt her insides twist as the sore spot threatened to drown her in sorrow. How could Smaug, a creature she despised who barely knew her, see her worth as a mate where no dragon had wanted to see before? She had been alone all this time, thinking herself somehow at fault for this reason, and yet she was told that she was practically perfect? But of course, she was being ridiculous, she told herself, for there hadn't been much time to mate and raise eggs in the middle of a war.

"Of course," Smaug replied smugly. "I have won many females in my time, some I even fought had to fight for… the fools that were my opposition didn't last long."

At his words, Saphira's eyes were drawn to the scars that riddled his body, from claw marks on his chest to scratches on his muzzle to even chipped scales and spikes. He was a living record of his hard life, and Saphira could sympathise with that, for she was a warrior herself, but she didn't have a single mark to show for it.

_'From your battle scars I can see you have faced many enemies,_' she said in what was perhaps the most civil tone she had used with Smaug yet, as she were speaking in an afterthought.

"Battle is a song in my blood, I kill where I wish, WHEN I wish. Each scratch and scar is a testament to the battles I have fought and won. I think my first mark, was this one," he pointed to a grove on his muzzle that went from the top of his snot, over his lip and almost to the bottom of his jaw. "I had only just left the nest to make my own way in the world, I had wandered into a rival male's territory, and he found me alone picking at my recent kill in a gorge. He thought to corner me and fight me, he was older and bigger then I, he believed it would be easy. This scratch was his first blow, when he dropped out of the sky without warning and raked a talon across my face. Perhaps the fool was half blind, for I think he meant to get my eye." As Smaug told the story, Saphira found herself turning to look at him, her eyes watching him with interest. "However, that was the only hit he landed on me. despite the blood and pain, he had made me furious; I unbalanced him when I smashed my tail into his legs, almost fracturing one of them. Even as he tried to bite me, I was smaller and quicker, I easily found my way underneath him, my teeth easily found his throat. He tried to shake me off, but I held firm; I pushed him until his head smashed onto some nearby rocks, dazing him. I then ripped out his throat."

'_I commend you for your quick thinking,_' was all Saphira said.

"Have you seen battle, pretty one?" Smaug asked as if he doubted it. Feeling her pride be prickled by his words, Saphira lifted her head high, as she gave him a glare.

'_I was six months old when I entered my first battle,'_ she explained. '_My first battle-wound, I achieved when an Urgal smashed his battleaxe into my chest-plate armour. It bent the metal and almost crushed my ribs, preventing me from breathing. It healed rather well,'_ she added as she thought of how Eragon and Aria had worked to save her at the battle of Farthen Dur.

"And Urgal? I have not encountered one of those before," Smaug mused as he settled onto his haunches.

Instead of explaining, Saphira sent him a mental picture from one of her memories: that of the hulking, grey skinned, muscled creatures that towered over humans, with large ram-like horns on their heads, charging as they roared into battle. She saw Smaug blink nodding to say that he had seen the image, and then to rub it in, she sent him a picture from another memory, that of her fighting hordes of the creatures in battle. She was pleased when Smaug grinned with approval.

They talked for a while longer. Finally, the two dragons seemed to have found a topic that they could both agree on and speak without any hostility, as they exchange battle scar stories. Saphira even found herself enjoying it, the only similarity between her and Smaug so far not being any lust for treasure, but their lust for blood.


End file.
